Legacy of the Fox (Pack Chronicles 1)
by Graecus Paganus
Summary: Stiles attends university in New Orleans, a city known for its supernatural occurances and mysterious happenings. What new evils are waiting for him in the supernatural capitol of Louisiana, and can he face it? #Post-S3 #AU #StilesxMale OC- First in a series featuring Stiles in New Orleans, Derek in New York, and Scott back in California.
1. Chapter 1

**Teen Wolf: Legacy of the Fox**

Author's Note: I haven't watched Teen Wolf past Season 3B yet, so this plot will likely deviate from Season 4 onward. This fic is set presumably after the series has ended and Stiles is in college. Also, Stiles has decided on leaving Beacon Hills, which the first chapter touches on more.

oooOoooOoooOooo

**One**

Stiles Stilinski knew from the get go it probably wasn't a good idea. He'd had enough of the supernatural in Beacon Hills. That's what had pushed him to seek higher learning elsewhere.

Why then had he chosen to move to New Orleans, a place notorious for the mysterious and supernatural?

Maybe it was because the skeptic in him didn't really believe those things, or maybe he saw himself as casting off on his own- as an independent investigator and hunter of the supernatural.

He had no doubt that he could easily locate mountain ash and wolfsbane in New Orleans. Such things were likely the standard fare of your run of the mill Voodoo supply store.

He couldn't deny it, no. The idea of being a paranormal investigator all on his own had brought him here- the fascination of the thing.

Was the city famous for curses, ghosts, and vampires all it was made out to be? Okay, so maybe not vampires, unless there was some truth to all the vampire novels set in this southern mecca of decedance.

Stiles knew he couldn't resist. He had to find out. It was that which had brought him here to Bourbon Street, amidst the throng of artists, freethinkers, and bar hoppers.

He walked deliberately and carefully down the sidewalk, trying to ignore the sweat coating his fair skin from this city's heat- Louisiana heat that could rival California's.

He was looking, searching for it- a Voodoo store. He thought it would be recognizable by some outward sign. Now he thought otherwise. Were people really this secretive about it?

He really hated the idea of asking someone in this crowd. What if he asked someone who took it the wrong way?

Then he spotted a girl about his age with curly blond hair and fair skin like his own standing next to a nearby street sign. He made his way over, thinking to himself she'd be alright.

"Excuse me," he spoke.

"Oh," the girl said with a little jump. "Hello."

She forced a shy smile, and he smiled in reply.

"I was wondering if you could direct me to a Voodoo store?"

"Oh," she said, her expression becoming guarded. "Well... there's one just up a few blocks."

She pointed ahead.

"You can't miss this one. Its famous. Marie Laveau's."

"Marie Laveau?" Stiles asked with a knowing smirk. "Isn't she famous? Yeah, I read a little about her!"

"I'd rather not say anymore," the girl said oddly, looking down.

Maybe she wasn't very fond of Voodoo. Stiles couldn't blame her, knowing firsthand that the supernatural was real, and it wasn't always pretty.

"Well that's okay," he told her with a wave. "Thanks."

Sure enough, he saw the place just up the block, and it was absolutely swarming with tourists. He liked the design of the place with its elequent Frnech doors thrown wide open, but when he stepped in he was immediately assulted with a strong, unidentifiable incense.

He looked around for someone who worked in the place, but it turns out he needn't have bothered.

"Can I help you young man?"

He jumped and turned his gaze on an older woman wearing the most jewelry and necklaces he'd ever seen on anyone. She was eying him with twinkling dark eyes and a somewhat amused smirk.

"I'm looking for some occult supplies," he replied simply.

"I sense something about ya," she said mysteriously, ignoring his request. "You have a kind of... energy about you."

"Spark?" he supplied tonelessly.

"Yes indeed!" she exclaimed with a wide smile. "That's it exactly! Just where are you coming from, young one?"

He decided the truth couldn't hurt. The woman couldn't know anything about him or his dad.

"Beacon Hills, California."

"Never heard of it," she replied honestly. "California's pretty far. What brings ya to New 'Awlins?"

"I go to UNO, and I'm an investigator of sorts."

"A paranormal investigator," she said knowingly. "I get the idea you're not new to it either."

"'Fraid not," he agreed with a chuckle.

Her eyes twinkled, and he suspected she knew a lot more about him than she let on.

"Well this way," she said, and he followed her through the crowd.

First she showed him the sage, then the various kinds of powdered ash, as well as other barks. Finally, the blue-purplish powder he knew so well... wolfsbane.

"Know what ya want?"

"I'll take some wolfsbane," he said. "Some mountain ash... "

He paused and studied the various displays.

"What does vervain do?"

"Wards off various negative presences," she answered, eying him suspiciously. "Vampires... "

Stiles felt a sense of unease. What if vampires really were real?

"I'll take some of that too, and some sage I guess."

She grabbed the things he indicated and led him behind the check out counter, putting them into a bag and handing it to him.

"What about... "

"You don't need to pay me," she said, stopping him. "Consider it goodwill. Besides, I get the feelin we'll be seein each other again."

"I think you're right," he agreed with a small smile.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Stiles placed the bag in the closet of his small two man dorm on campus. His roommate Devon didn't seem to be back yet.

He wanted to eat, but first he wanted to rest. He settled back against his mattress with an appreciative yawn and began to think.

He wondered how his dad was doing- Scott, even Derek...

He missed them of course, but this was part of growing up. He was out in the world now. High school was behind him.

There was one thing from those years that would never be entirely behind him, but he hardly thought about it now. It was a distant shadow on his mind. Sometimes if he really let himself think about it he felt an inkling of fear.

Instead he thought about where to begin. He still didn't know if New Orleans had any actual supernatural activity. Maybe it was a bunch of hype, but likely it wasn't. It probably at least had a werewolf pack. Derek said most big cities did.

That jolted an idea in his brain. He pulled out his phone and started a text.

_Der, do you know about any packs in New Orleans?_

He waited after sending it, but Derek might not answer for awhile, and eventually the mild anxiety subsided. The wolf would answer when he wanted to answer.

He dwelled on thoughts of Derek, of Scott- of home in general. He didn't remember when he'd nodded off, or when he'd awoken.

Was he awake? He was in a room that seemed to be entirely mirrors, but not like one of those mirror mazes at a carnival. It was a circular room, and the walls were like actual mirrors, all lined up in a row.

Being met with his reflection from all sides gave him slight unease. He didn't like this. He wanted to get out of here.

_Stiles_

The voice was whispered, but it wasn't unpleasant like the hiss of the Nogitsune had been. After a few moments he decided it was just the wind.

He eyed his reflection, looking at him from several different directions. He saw his same old self with a somewhat lanky frame, spiked brunette hair, and expressive eyes of amber whiskey.

_Stiles_

This time it was a little louder.

"Who's there?" he asked, feeling slightly foolish, as though he still thought he was talking to himself.

_Oh hero, overcomer of your own inner darkness, crosser of distance- harken to what is within you. _

It wasn't a whisper this time. It was a deep, almost musical voice. Was he going crazy?

_The spark you still have- overcomer of the dark fox. I will give you my power. Control it, master it- come!_

Stiles didn't know why he wasn't afraid, or why he didn't distrust the voice. It simply seemed like it was a good voice.

He did what he felt, closing his eyes and exhaling for breath- he stepped forward with his hands open slightly.

He felt himself levitate off the ground, unless he was imagining it. Felt a burning sensation in his chest, but not unpleasant. More like a fire slowly burning and giving warming heat. Then he felt that warmth expand and grow.

He felt like a power pounded through his every nerve, pulsing with his blood.

His eyes opened, but his reflection shocked him into reality. Staring at him from every side was a young man that looked like him, except for an elongated nose and pointed ears like a fox.

"W-what is this!?"

_Be calm, young hero. This power is yours. It will assist you whenever you call on it- whenever you remember your spark._

The room had begun to grow brighter for some reason. Surely it wasn't his imagination. In a few moments it was so bright that a pure whiteness seemed to envelop him. Soon the whiteness was all there was, except for the vague image of mirrors.

He awoke suddenly, his heartbeat erratic with a now fading mental picture of pure bright light. It was now dark, and Devon still wasn't back it seemed.

The first thing he did was go look in the mirror hanging above his dresser. It was just plain Stiles that looked back at him. Could it have only been a dream?

_His spark..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

Stiles had totally forgotten to check his phone messages because of the dream. It had totally unnerved him. What was he? Was he some kind of Kitsune?

The thought totally repulsed him. He'd had enough of trickster foxes when that bastard had been inside of him, controlling his body's every function.

It was only seeing the message notification icon on his phone screen that finally switched his train of thought. Would Derek have any answers for him?

_**Derek: **__We never really talked about New Orleans much as a kid, and I've never been there. Can't say…_

Stiles felt a rush of disappointment, but part of him had been prepared for it. Derek couldn't be expected to know about every pack in the world.

Stiles sighed and put his phone aside, deciding to cook himself dinner. He always fixed enough for Devon to have some if he wanted, but usually his roommate ate elsewhere.

Stiles had always been that way. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone being left out. He supposed it was like his mother.

Soon oil was sizzling away in a pan, and Stiles carefully added the ground meat, stirring it around with a wooden spoon. He enjoyed cooking, and it allowed him to take his mind off of his troubles.

The meat was about halfway done when his notification ringtone sounded into the empty dorm. He put the heat on low and grabbed his phone.

_**Derek: **__Why?_

Stiles could have yelled in frustration. He hated it when Derek was cryptic like that. Was the werewolf asking him why he'd wanted to know about packs in New Orleans- or 'why' about something else?

He would have to assume it was about the packs.

'_Just curious'_, he typed in reply, and really that's all it was.

He hadn't seriously considered taking out a rogue pack on his own or anything. Maybe he was so used to having werewolves in his life, it was hard to be totally free of them.

It suddenly occurred to him that it wasn't Derek he should be talking to, but someone else that would likely know what a dream about a fox spirit inside of him meant: _Kira_.

How could Stiles even begin to ask her something like that though?

He decided to return to fixing dinner, but he was soon distracted by something else.

Just then the dorm's front door swung open and Devon ran in, clearly excited about something.

"Stiles dude," he exclaimed, depositing his backpack onto his bed. "You should have seen it!"

"Seen what Dev?" Stiles asked, managing to keep his curiosity in check. It was obvious Devon was excited about something.

"Foxes brah! I saw one run right across Esplanade Avenue! Of course I thought to myself that I couldn't have, but I did. I heard on the radio driving here that not only I did. Foxes have been seen all over- even the Northshore."

"Dude no way," Stiles replied, expression somewhat worried now.

Was Devon pranking him? What reason would he have to do that? Besides, Devon didn't know about his fox dream.

Now it couldn't be ignored. He would have to call Kira.

He quickly turned the burner off and grabbed his car keys off his dresser.

"Hey man!" Devon called after him. "Where ya goin?"

"I just need to run to the store," Stiles invented quickly. "Need anything?"

Devon was quiet for a few seconds, but he eventually shook his head to mean no. Did he believe him?

oooOoooOoooOooo

Stiles had just settled in behind the wheel of his trusty old Jeep. He hadn't even cranked up the engine yet, but of course he'd only wanted privacy.

He quickly speed-dialed the number he'd never had any real reason to call before and listened to ringing with mounting anxiety.

"Hello?" Kira's vaguely familiar voice answered.

"Hey!" Stiles greeted, trying to sound cheerful.

"Stiles!? Oh my god! How have you been?"

"I've been good," he replied. "Just here and there, ya know? Anyways, I needed to ask you about something important."

"Okay," she said, voice a little reserved. "I'll try my best."

"Now I'm really not sure where to start here Kira. Today's been real weird. First I went out to buy some stuff from this Voodoo Emporium. Nothing weird about that. Then I came back to the dorm and ended up dozing off, except I had this really weird dream."

Stiles's voice had that nervous rambling factor to it, like he got when he was really anxious.

"Stiles," Kira said confusedly. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Here's the real weird part," he continued, disregarding that last bit. "In the dream I heard this voice. He called me a hero, and then he seemed to like pass his power into me. Then I had fox ears and everything."

Stiles heard an intake for breath on the other end.

"Kira?"

"Stiles," she hesitated. "Do you feel like yourself?"

"Yeah, totally me. The dream just really freaked me out. I thought maybe you'd know about it."

"Anything else you can tell me?" she asked kindly.

"Yeah," Stiles almost whispered, anxiety spiking again. "People have been seeing foxes everywhere in this area. New Orleans is a big city. There shouldn't be any foxes here."

"No I agree with you," she said. "That is weird. I'll ask my mom about it, alright?"

Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about Kira's mother getting involved. A few years ago she'd wanted to kill him. Still- who else was likely to have any answers about this?

"Alright," he agreed reluctantly.

"I'll go ask now if you want. Then we can talk later."

"Sure," he replied. "Bye then."

He didn't immediately return inside when the call disconnected. He sat behind the wheel of his Jeep, letting his mind wander to all the adventures he'd had in his baby.

It all seemed so long ago now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

Stiles was pleasantly surprised to discover his roommate had finished dinner, and it actually wasn't bad.

"You alright man?" Devon asked him.

Stiles frowned, twirling spaghetti noodles around his fork like it was terribly interesting.

"Not really Dev," he sighed, feeling a mild wave of anxiety toward all the new surprises the day had brought.

"Wanna talk about it?" Devon offered.

Stiles inhaled, focusing on the breath, letting it sweep some of his troubles away. He'd learned that in a Zen help book.

He eyed Devon, still feeling somewhat taken with his inner peace. Devon gave him an encouraging smile.

Devon reminded Stiles of Ethan a lot. He had a similar frame and liked wearing tank tops, except that he had blond hair and baby blue eyes.

Stiles let himself go in the trust that had developed between them, first telling Devon about the Voodoo Emporium.

"Isn't it cool?" Devon enthused knowingly. "I go there from time to time just to look! So you're still taken with this paranormal hunter idea?"

"Yeah pretty much," Stiles replied, and he was. "I told you my hometown is weird. It becomes part of one's life like anything."

Actually, for Stiles part of it was redemption as well. Maybe if he helped set some restless souls at ease it would in a sense clear him of all the things the Nogitsune had made him do.

"I suppose it makes sense," Devon agreed. "Want a hug?"

Stiles nodded and let his roommate's strong, comforting embrace surround him. Devon was a hugger, and a genuinely nice person.

Sometimes Stiles wanted to linger. Something about another man's arms made him feel protected and safe.

He inhaled Devon's cologne, and could have sworn the other man's embrace got more protective. He no longer cared. He'd accepted the fact he was bi when he left everything behind.

"Better?" Devon asked pulling back.

"Thanks," Stiles managed, his voice slightly lower.

oooOoooOooo

"Stiles... "

It was a female voice. Was it Lydia?

The blackness around him slowly brightened. He was standing in front of the familiar house in Beacon Hills at night- the house he'd called home most of his life.

He stepped down the driveway, following a thrum in his head, almost like the house was calling him.

This was it, he thought; hand hesitantly turning the doorknob. Someone or something was waiting in his old living room.

He pushed the door open, feeling reluctant to step inside. This must be a dream...

The person before him was one he'd seen in shadow in many a dream. Never like now.

"Mother," he spoke softly, tragically.

Before him was a older face, so like his own, but sweeter. His mother was smiling.

If you could shake in dreams Stiles would be trembling.

He stepped forward. He wanted to know if she was real, dream or not.

Something stopped him just within a few inches, close enough to reach out. He touched the air. It felt like glass, and it was cruel. Could they not touch?

"Mother," he repeated gently. "Why?"

Her whiskey eyes so like his own shone with love.

She reached forward, touching her side of the invisible barrier between them.

"My boy," she whispered. "Return. We will speak more."

Return? She eyed him as though he should understand. He should know what to do.

"You'll know what to do," she told him in that same voice from long ago. "Stiles... "

The scenary began to spin, and Stiles jolted awake, cold sweat sticking his shirt to his body.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

8 AM found Stiles sitting on his bed, holding what must have been his fourth cup of coffee since he'd been woken by the unsettling dream.

He thought and thought about the voice he hadn't heard in years, the voice he'd mistaken as Lydia in the dream.

Seeing his mother's face had unnerved him even more. Even now those whiskey eyes so like his own were cemented in his memory.

His mind carried him back to that place from his childhood he treated as forbidden, a dark shadow of a memory he tried to keep shut up in the Pandora's Box of his mind.

He focused on his breathing, determined that he wasn't going to think about it. He wasn't going to let himself remember his mother's death again.

"Stiles?"

The familiar voice jolted him from his troubled emotions. He looked up from his coffee and into the concerned eyes of Devon.

"Oh hey," Stiles greeted in a somewhat dead tone.

"You don't look very happy today," Devon noted with a frown.

Stiles felt a mild rush of annoyance. He appreciated Devon's concern, but he was also the kind of guy that didn't like to feel pitied. He was tired of everyone thinking he was weak and fragile.

_Skinny, defenseless Stiles_, a grumpy voice from his memory mocked.

It wasn't Devon's fault, and Stiles was determined not to take it out on him- about the only actual emotional support he had these days.

"I probably just need to go out," Stiles sighed. "Maybe I'll go back to the Voodoo Emporium."

Devon watched him put on his sneakers with fresh concern in his expression.

"Be careful Stiles," he whispered. "Voodoo isn't only good."

"Thanks," Stiles replied gruffly. "Tell me something I don't already know."

oooOoooOoooOoooOooo

So there he was again, in the hustle and bustle of the French Quarter, drawing ever nearer his destination.

Stiles wasn't superstitious without good reason, but he knew enough about magic to know that Devon was right. The atmosphere of the shop could have easily caused the dream. After all, taking a dark power into himself had been the first step toward... but he didn't want to think about the Nogitsune again.

The older woman from the day before made eye contact with him as soon as he walked in. She was easily noticeable by all her charms and jewelry. Stiles didn't know why, but she didn't give him a bad feeling.

"We meet again," she said with an almost knowing grin. "Let's say we speak on a first name basis, since we've met a second time? I'm Mambo Ethal Reynolds."

"Stiles," he replied in a somewhat guarded tone. "Uh... thanks for yesterday. That was very generous."

"Don't mention it Stiles," she said with a knowing wink. "I always know when people need my services. Its why you're here isn't it?"

Stiles felt his chest tighten with anxiety. Did she really know everything?

"Relax child," she continued kindly. "I have my way of knowing things, but even I can't see all that has passed. I get the idea that something on your mind is bothering you."

He didn't really know where to begin- the fox dream, or the one about his mother.

"Its dreams," he began quietly.

She nodded as though she understood exactly what he meant and gestured for him to follow.

"Let's talk back here," she said, leading him through a curtain into a more private room.

The room had boxes and shelves, but there was a small table with candles and a cross resting on the surface.

She gestured for him to take one of the seats, while she took the squishy, comfy-looking armchair.

"These dreams you have," she began carefully, eying him with knowing concern. "They're caused by something in the shadow. Care to explain it more to me?"

Stiles was still wary, but he did trust her. He began to spill out a little about the Darach and the sacrifices, as much as he was willing to tell.

"We believed we could save our parents," he explained. "We took the darkness into ourselves- offered part of ourselves to the Nemeton."

She eyed him somewhat compassionately and seemed to be deep in thought for several moments.

"Well I'm no expert on Celtic magic," she said finally, drumming her fingers together in thought. "I'd say the cold water and herbs helped you leave your body. Then you left part of yourselves with this magical tree, this _Nemeton_. I might say the darkness in you is only the void left by that part."

"Deaton says nothing can be done about it."

"Don't be so sure," she told him. "It may indeed be that nothing can be done, but I will try with all my craft. Perhaps Voodoo can do what Celtic magic cannot."

"You're saying you can return me to myself?" he asked, a spark of hope in his eyes.

"I'll try," she told him. "First tell me the rest."

He decided not to tell her about the Nogitsune. What would she think of such a thing? Would she think he was some terrible person?

Instead he told her about the dream from the night before, and being unable to reach his mother.

"That is obvious to me," Ethal said when he finished. "Your mother is trying to reach you, but your own mental barriers stop it. Perhaps the darkness isn't all there is to it. I doubt she would tell me whatever it is she wants to tell you. Are you prepared for what you might have to do?"

"I'm prepared," he said quickly. "I just... "

His voice hitched and tears formed in his eyes.

"I want to see my mother," he choked, letting the tears go.

"I know," she said gently, placing a comforting hand over his own. "I think I can help. To speak to her without any walls you have to go into your own mind, just like before. You'll likely face the darkness there, and other things as well. Remember I told you about the darkness being a void? You have to close it- the door."

He seemed to consider for several moments, biting at his lip nervously. He might face his most dangerous foe inside his mind- himself. He might face the Nogitsune again, or anything...

"How can we do it?" he asked finally, pacing himself for courage with his breaths.

"Like before," she told him. "Shock your soul out of your body. Every person has a higher self dwelling in a higher plane. Think of the soul as a bridge between the flesh and this higher spirit-self. You'll be going into your spirit's world. You've already done it before."

"Yes," he agreed. "I can do it one more time."

"I'm glad to hear that," she said with a smile for encouragement. "Be brave. I sense you carry great power with you."

Stiles thought of both the fox and his spark. Deaton had once told him he carried a powerful spark.

"My helper will run the store in my absence," she told him. "Let's dig out the herbs we need and go back to my place. We can use my bathtub."

This was it. If Stiles agreed now he wouldn't be able to convince himself to back out later.

"I'm ready," he said.

oooOoooOoooOoooOoooOooo

His anxiety was a hundred fold as he looked at the familiar bath of ice cubes and herbs.

Being about to do it made it a thousand times more real. The last time he'd done this was when he'd invited a dark presence into his body. He was scared, but somehow he knew he had to face it. Not facing it was letting the darkness win.

He thought of Scott, of Derek, and the bravery they all had. He could be brave too.

Stiles closed his eyes and inhaled, stepping into the coldness of the bath, teeth chattering as he lay back in the icy wash.

"On three," she told him. "I'm going to submerge you. One... two... thr... "

She didn't even finish and he was in that all too familiar terror he'd known only once before. He was drowning. He kicked and gurgled for air, but she held him firmly.

_Once you let the water in... its kinda peaceful._

His own words came back to him from across a span of years. He swallowed down one final intake of water, and his anxiety ceased. The darkness engulfed him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

Stiles came to consciousness. He seemed to be lying on something hard, and the darkness went on every direction, seemingly without end.

He had been here before. This was just like the last times he'd been plunged into his spirit's world.

Sure enough, his surroundings slowly brightened. He was in the endless hall of flourescent lights again, the Nemeton's stump seemingly harmless in the distance.

He'd been here a few times before. It was where he'd found himself after agreeing to make a sacrifice on his dad's behalf. Only now did he fully realize what he'd done that day, and how the Nogitsune had found its way in. He had sacrificed part of his spirit leaving a large hole in its place- like a wormhole all sorts of astral undesirables could get in through.

It occured to him that Scott also had such a weakness in his soul, but Stiles couldn't worry about that too much. Scott would have to deal with his own demons.

Stiles wondered if the Nemeton was where he needed to go. The accursed tree stump held nothing except bad memories for him.

He made his way slowly toward it. The hall of lights seemed to span on forever. Eventually he was a few paces away from it. There seemed to be no way forward.

Stiles felt a rush of panic. What if he had trapped himself here and could never escape?

As though sensing his fear, a dark aura began to glow around the Nemeton. Stiles hiccuped, but forced his eyes closed, focusing on his breathing. In this world it was like hearing a loud thump, thump in his head.

He remembered what his Zen books said- try to hear your heartbeats and calm them.

Suddenly it occured to him what to do. Use his power- his spark!

He raised his arms outstretched and envisioned power flowing out of him. Power of the fox...

He opened his eyes and noticed a gentle blue light had descended on the Nemeton. Following instinct again he moved forward, stepping onto the shriveled stump.

He immediately rose a few feet, feeling himself lose contact with the ground. He slowly rose higher and higher until the light seemed to surround and swallow him.

The light slowly began to fade. This time he was in the halls of Beacon Hills High, his old school. No one was there.

Fear crept up his spine with each step. Somehow his mind knew where to go. His old locker was just ahead.

He remembered with new anxiety when he'd been institutionalized with Malia. He'd thought that sleeping with her would somehow anchor him to his body, but it hadn't worked. The Nogitsune had still found a way in, through her...

_Let me in..._

Stiles gulped and reached out with a shaking hand for the locker handle. He needed to get it under control. The Nogitsune was gone. It couldn't torment him anymore.

He pulled at the handle and was almost blinded by a fresh burst of light when he pulled the locker open. The light had faded soon enough, back into the whiteness of the hall of lights, except now someone was standing by the Nemeton. Her back was turned to him.

His chest tighetened painfully at the realization of who familiar black curls indicated. Sure enough, Allison Argent turned to look at him. Stiles was cemented in his tracks, taking a cautious back step.

"Stiles," she spoke in a whisper, turning curious eyes on him. "Why did you kill me?"

"I," he choked on his words. "I didn't... "

"You did Stiles," she accused.

A bow appeared in her hands, and she pulled back an arrow on the string.

"Allison no!"

Stiles dropped and rolled aside just as an arrow zipped by. He looked up, but it was no longer Allison, but his own face leering at him.

"No! Not you!"

"Miss me Stiles?" his doppleganger mocked. "You really think Scott could kill me? I'm thousands of years old!"

"H-help," Stiles rasped in pure fear.

"Oh no help is coming this time," the Nogitsune laughed through his features. "You drowned. You're dead! Locked together for all eternity!"

"Stiles," Ethal's voice suddenly spoke in his mind. "Don't be tricked. This is your darkness. Face it!"

Suddenly Stiles was under the water in the bathtub again. Ethal's hands were still holding him under firmly, and he was fighting against her.

Eventually he gave in and passed out again. In a flash Nogitsune Stiles was before him again, fixing him with that same knowing smirk.

"I know now!" Stiles exclaimed. "You're not real! I was just back there, and now you're here. You're just a shadow of my mind!"

"Foolish boy," Nogitsune Stiles replied with an amused snort. "You really believe that? You believe you've left this room? You were here this entire time."

Stiles immediately felt doubt, even though the more reasonable part of his brain knew it wasn't true. What if he had only imagined being back there?

"You lie," Stiles spoke, voice trembling as he tried to conjure courage.

Then he found it. It seemed to flare up in him, coupled with determination and anger. He'd already let the darkness in him take over once. It wasn't happening again!

"You lie!" he roared at his doppleganger. "You lying spirit! I'm not afraid of you anymore!"

Nogitsune Stiles gasped in surprise.

"No!" he roared.

His body began to convulse and jerk violently.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The Nogitsune gripped the sides of his head before he crumbled into a million pieces.

"Yahoo!" Stiles exclaimed, pumping the air with his fist.

He was happy. He finally felt free, for the first time since that creature had taken him over. He'd faced his darkness- his fear, and he'd overcome.

The room seemed to distort and twist in on itself. Stiles didn't let anxiety win though. The happiness of his victory couldn't be quenched that fast.

Just as expected, there was nothing to fear. When the swirl of colors and lights righted themselves again he was in his old living room, just like in the dream.

His mother faced him and smiled. He felt his eyes moisten, smiling back with a sniffle.

"Mom," he exclaimed with joy, running to her, knowing he would be able to.

"My son," she whispered, embracing him.

Stiles had never felt anything like it. To be in her arms after all these years...

He lay his head against her bossom like he was a little boy again. He didn't care. Tears were flowing freely down his face.

"For so long I've wanted to talk to you again," she told him, raising his face to look at her. "Do not cry Stiles."

He dried his tears, finding that he was able to obey. The happiness of having her present had washed away years of the pain of distance.

"I have watched you for years," she told him. "You may not see or hear me, but I'm never far. I wasn't able to see you quite as clearly after the Nogitsune took over. Finally, you've vanquished that darkness completely- the fear and guilt. You didn't do any of those things."

"I know," Stiles said with a bright smile, a real smile. "I didn't kill any of those people, or you either... "

"No my boy," she agreed with a gentle smile of her own. "So don't let these things burden you anymore. You have a great destiny ahead of you. One I saw years ago."

Stiles felt surprise. How could that be?

"Where do you think you got your spark from?" she asked in response to his expression. "Unusual powers run in our family Stiles. That's why the occult attracts you. That's why the Nogitsune wanted your body. That's also why your intuition rarely leads you wrong. You knew Jennifer's victims were being sacrificed."

"Yes," he said with a nod.

"Now you have been given a new power," she went on. "Another spirit has taken interest in you and bestowed you with its power, but this spirit was good. This spirit too was a Kitsune, not an evil one like the one that controlled you before. Understand, you aren't possessed. The Kitsune sacrificed its essence and gave its power to you. You now are what Kira is."

"Why?"

"Because you overcame the Nogitsune," she said simply. "The good Kitsune that gave its power to you, it chose you for a purpose. It saw you as worthy."

"I didn't overcome him though," Stiles disagreed.

"Yes you did though," Claudia corrected him. "When you cast him forth from you. He seemed to vommit you out, but you actually cast him aside. Scott gave you that courage."

Stiles smiled at the thought and nodded. Scott had always motivated him, even when he doubted himself.

"You're never alone Stiles," she said. "I cannot say what is ahead of you. Only that I know it is a great destiny. I will be watching you always. One more thing Stiles... "

"What is it mom?"

"Forgive your father... "

Those last words seemed to echo in his mind. She was already gone and the light was around him again. He was suddenly aware of feeling wet and remembered he was under the water.

This time Ethal helped him come up to the surface. He was in her bathroom again.

"I did it," he said, gasping for much needed air.

"I know," she said with a knowing smile. "I felt the burden lift from you. Do you know what you're going to do now?"

"No," Stiles admitted, getting out of the water and accepting the towel she held out for him. "I suppose I better start by calling Devon. I need dry clothes."

He chuckled at the thought, and for the first time it wasn't half-hearted and guarded. It was a real sincere, free of heart laugh like he hadn't laughed in so long.

His mother's memory no longer seemed heavy and on his shoulders. Seeing her had given him a kind of absolution. He could finally let go.

Suddenly it occured to him that maybe Derek could one day do that. Derek could face his many demons and overcome them- but Derek was thousands of miles away.

Some day perhaps...

Stiles didn't stop thinking of Beacon Hills and all the people he loved for some time after that.

oooOoooOoooOoooOoooOooo

To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

Stiles and Devon sat across from one another in the Galley, a food court that represented one of many dining options UNO students had on campus.

Stiles was munching down on Popeye's cajun fries, the closest thing the on-campus food court offered to curly fries. Devon had chosen a meatball marinara sub from Subway as his lunch.

The hectic weekend from Hades was finally over, which meant a return to campus life with the coming of Monday.

Stiles had already attended his morning classes. He and Devon usually ate lunch together in the Galley if one of them wasn't busy.

All around were the hustle and bustle of UNO students chattering to one another or carrying trays of food to vacant tables.

"You seem happy today," Devon remarked to Stiles, sipping at his Cherry Coke. "Happier than usual."

"Its just that I think I've sorted through some stuff," Stiles explained, nibbling at a cajun fry and releasing a contented moan.

"You make such suggestive sounds when you eat," Devon remarked with a smirk.

"Meaning?" Stiles asked, playfully puckering his lips.

"Oh you!" Devon laughed.

Stiles grinned, secretly wishing that Devon shared his feelings, deciding it might not hurt to pretend to himself that he did. Stiles Stilinski never let anyone dampen his idealism.

"Hey Dev," Stiles said. "You interested in paranormal investigation?"

"I didn't think you would want me along," Devon replied.

"You never asked. I wouldn't mind having a partner."

"A partner in crime," Devon remarked with another shit-eating grin.

Stiles snorted and stiffled hysterics with his hand. Sometimes Devon did make him really happy, and this pretending was working out really well. Stiles could almost imagine they were on a date right now. Malia would probably think he was pathetic.

Still, Stiles couldn't entirely distract himself from his other problem, now that he'd closed the door in his mind. He still hadn't heard anything from Kira about this fox thing. His mother had only been able to tell him so much, and its not like he had a direct line to her anytime he chose.

oooOoooooOooo

A man in his early thirties with brown hair and wearing a trench coat ducked behind a coffee shop off of Esplenade Avenue.

He might have been any other New Orleans native or tourist, as far as anyone could tell.

The one he was watching was coming closer. A younger man who looked like somewhat a nerd with his square glasses. The man in the trench coat waited for him to pass and then carefully made his way back into the crowd, tailing the nerdy man from a distance.

He knew what he had to do...

oooOoooooOooo

Stiles navagated through the crowd assembled outside of Marie Leveau's Voodoo Emporium. There were always a lot of tourists gathered in front of the building.

He felt like he should drop in and thank Ethal for how she had helped him.

It didn't take long to spot her wearing her outlandish clothing and jewelry among the crowd.

"Stiles," she greeted with a smile, embracing the younger man in a hug. "What brings ya here darlin?"

"I wanted to thank you," he told her.

"Don't mention it honey," she said with a wink. "Matter of fact, I would like to talk about somethin. Do you work?"

Stiles went a few shades of pink.

"Well you see," he mumbled sheepishly, twiddling his fingers. "My mom arranged this thing. A trust helps pay for my college, but the truth is, well... I sell Avon products on the internet?"

Ethal burst into good-natured laughter.

"Nothin wrong with honest work," she said, giving him a playful nudge in the side. "Though if you get tired of selling Avon, I thought I might hire you."

"For real!?" Stiles exclaimed in surprise. "You... you really mean it?"

Ethal placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Child I like ya," she told him honestly. "Something about you drew me from the moment you came through that door. You have a good energy about ya, and I think you'd fit in well here."

"In that case, deal."

He smiled at her sincerely, holding out his hand to shake on it. She gave him a motherly look and gripped his hand.

"Deal," she told him. "Be here tomorrow evening."

"When?"

"Oh just whenever you're not busy," she said. "Honestly I could use the help around here, and beggers can't be choosy."

oooOoooooOooo

"What do you want from me!"

The young man in square glasses cowered against the back alley wall. The man in the trench coat leered at him, laughing a deep and carefully calculated laugh.

"You foolish human!" the man laughed with amusement and malice. "You think you own this city now, but when I and my master finish with you. First New Orleans- then the world!"

oooOoooooOooo

Stiles was assailed by Devon as soon as he entered their dorm.

"Stiles thank goodness!" Devon exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

"Uh Dev?"

"Its terrible," his roommate whispered, pulling back to give him a look of slight fear. "Somebody was found in an alley about an hour ago. He looked like he'd been attacked, but the doctors report nothing wrong. He just won't wake up!"

"Won't wake up?" Stiles asked in confusion.

"That's not all Stiles. Foxes... "

Stiles paled as what Devon was saying really sunk in. They'd been hearing reports of unusual fox activity in the greater New Orleans area. What if this had something to do with him?

"Oh I almost forgot," Devon exclaimed, cutting into his troubled thoughts.

A package was thrust into his hand, and the address said- Beacon Hills!

Stiles quickly ripped open the small box and was confused to find only a small black fragment inside, almost like a shattered piece of glass. There was a flash drive with it.

Stiles wasted no time popping the drive into his laptop. Devon was watching with rapt attention, but that couldn't be helped. Stiles supposed it was only a matter of time before his roommate learned the truth about the weirdness that was his life.

"Stiles," Kira greeted him inside his Media Player window. "I tried to get this to you as quickly as I could. I would have called, but there's some things you need to see."

Stiles felt his pulse quicken at what Kira could possibly mean. Something told him it probably wasn't about a pack picnic back at home.

"The shard I sent you is a piece of the Yin Yang medallion," she went on. "Not just any Yin Yang, but the long lost treasure of we Kitsune. It was split into two pieces centuries ago: the Yin and Yang, and then the two halves were shattered."

Stiles listened raptly, trying to absorb what she was saying. Devon was listening too, but nothing other than confusion registered on his face.

"Now the Yin Yang medallion belonged to Kitsune lore's greatest hero, Shigeru. Here I'll show you!"

Kira held up an old, battered book on the video and opened it, pointing to side by side pages.

The text was written in Japanese and not at all legible to Stiles, but he recognized the Yin Yang symbol.

"This is the legend of Shigeru," Kira explained, still pointing to the pages. "He was the keeper of the medallion, a treasure it is said descended from the heavens in ages past. Kitsune legend holds that Quan Yin, the Bodhisattva of wisdom and compassion, entrusted the Kitsune with the Yin Yang medallion, a treasure to help keep balance in the world. Eventually the medallion came into Shigeru's keeping, and he used it to seal away a very powerful Nogitsune named Raijin."

A Nogitsune? Stiles didn't like the sound of that, or like the name.

"Shigeru entrusted his descendents with the treasure, but instructed his two sons to split the Yin Yang in half and move away from one another, to opposite ends of Japan. Over time Shigeru's descendents began to fight over the medallion halves. Legend says they eventually shattered the two pieces into an unknown number of fragments to stop the fighting. No one knows what became of these fragments, but there is another legend called Shigeru's Prophecy. In this legend it is said that Shigeru foresaw the breaking of the Yin Yang, and the scattering of the pieces in a far away land by the goddess Quan Yin. The pieces would remain in that far off land until the one destined to unite them would appear. However, with him would appear the return of the evil one, Raijin. My mother believes the destined one is you Stiles."

Stiles couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was some destined one, fated to re-assemble this... medallion?

"She believes the legend means you," Kira repeated. "I'm sure I've given you a lot to process, so I end the video here. Let me express my sincere wish for you Stiles- that if you are the hero in the legend, you will have all luck and success. All we Kitsune are relying on you to return our treasure to us!"

Stiles was still shocked for some moments, even after the video had stopped playing. Devon seemed equally surprised, but he appeared to be quite as speechless.

"What... " Devon spoke eventually, pausing as though still absorbing it all. "What did she mean by all that?"

"You really want to know?" Stiles asked him seriously. "Everything?"

Devon nodded, looking at Stiles with concern for a long moment, seeming to hesitate for some unknown reason.

"Of course I do," Devon said eventually in a gentle tone, taking Stiles's hand.

Stiles felt his blood rush at the contact. Was this really happening, or was this Devon's way of showing friendly support?

"I care about you," Devon said with feeling, their eyes never breaking contact. "I know you keep things from me because you care. You don't want to hurt me, but I want to know... everything."

Everything...

Devon's eyes still held him rooted in the moment, unable to move or pull back. Why did Stiles think that to Devon everything also meant this? What he was already doing...

Stiles was slowly moving closer, his eyes already fixed on the prize- Devon's inviting lips. Then the blond took them the rest of the way, pressing his lips against Stiles's firmly.

A million thoughts and emotions rushed into Stiles's brain at once. He'd come this far, all the way from Beacon Hills- met this Louisiana boy, and he'd fallen in love.

Stiles released a moan and began moving his lips eagerly, matching Devon's excited lips. He would tell him everything, his entire history- but right now he simply wanted this.

He wanted Devon's tongue to dance with his- just like this...

Wanted that strong, assuring hand on his arm- like right now...

Stiles felt like everything was gone. It no longer mattered. It was all flowing into Devon through the kiss and being obliterated.

Then Stiles knew- he had never been this in love in all his life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

Stiles would never forget the time he had spent in Devon's arms, so different from Malia or any other person he'd been with.

Devon seemed to open his body with his every touch, making his skin tingle as his nerves rushed like wildfire.

The kissing and touching had been rushed and dominating, but also loving. Stiles never for a moment doubted Devon loved him.

Devon had given him pleasure he never dreamed of... driven him wild with his mouth- filled him to capacity.

Now here they lay in the afterglow underneath Devon's sheets- sweaty, sticky skin pressed together in their embrace.

Devon ran his fingers through Stiles's brunette hair. Stiles sighed contentedly and nestled further into his roomate, now lover's neck.

"I never would have guessed," Devon said thoughtfully once Stiles told him everything. "So you expect me to believe... "

"That I carried a darkness in my heart until just yesterday?" Stiles supplied when he fell silent. "Didn't you say it yourself Dev? I seem happier."

"You do," the other man agreed, running gentle fingers over Stiles's bare chest distractedly. "I felt so... captured by you today. I think I- if this makes sense... loved you even more."

Stiles smiled and placed a careful hand against the Louisiana boy's cheek.

"I love you too," he whispered, bringing their lips together again.

Whatever may have happened was stopped dead in its tracks by a deafening explosion of glass.

Stiles and Devon jerked around and saw a man half-concealed by shadow standing by the remaining chunks of glass that used to be the dorm window. Stiles could clearly see a trench coat.

"Hand it over to me," the man ordered testily. "What you carry with you... "

Stiles immediately jumped up and his spark seemed to propel him into action. He lunged at the intruder, who almost seemed to vanish. His side-step was just that quick!

"My what an interesting fox," the man said, eying him with a new malice. "A Kitsune, are you? Then you know why I'm here."

Stiles gasped in horror. It had been only a split second- but he could have sworn the man's facial features had changed. He thought he'd seen a mask and yellow pin pricks within two voids for eyes. It had to have been his mind playing tricks...

"I smell your fear, young fox. However, if you insist on being stubborn... "

The man reached into one of the trench coat's pockets and extracted a large fragment of something resting in his palm. Stiles could clearly see it was dark, reflecting the moon's light with a kind of subtle shine.

"You want this fragment," the man spoke knowingly, almost seductively. "I retrieved it just today. I'll make you a deal. Meet me at Lafayette Cemetery at midnight. The old No. 1. I'm sure you know it. My fragment for your fragment."

"Stiles no!" Devon said suddenly, eying him with worry.

"Oh and one more thing," the man said, eying Devon now with a sneer. "Don't bring lover boy here along. That's my conditions if you want this deal."

The man seemed to suddenly fly apart into shadowy vapor before entirely vanishing.

"Stiles don't do this."

"Devon I have no choice," he replied, placing an assuring hand on his newfound lover's shoulder. "If I don't go he can find us again. Besides, you need to call campus security. Invent some story. Tell them I was gone and you walked in to find the window like this."

"Stiles," Devon whispered, eyes shining with concern.

Stiles pressed a firm kiss to his lips, pulling back quickly.

"That's my promise to come back."

Stiles quickly began dressing himself in the teal jeans and t-shirt he'd taken off earlier.

"You can't promise that," Devon protested, shaking his head.

"I can," Stiles spoke confidently, proceeding to the broken window's edge.

He gave Devon a confident grin, and then jumped before he could look back, his spark once again seeming to drive him on. He'd seen Scott and the others jump from heights a thousand times.

As he thought, he landed in a crouching position just fine. He could already feel his elongated fox ears. The ears perked and twitched, some fox-like instinct partly in control of his body.

Stiles started off on his hands and legs like Scott had done often, but when he reached the edge of campus he figured he'd better play his normal human self. He'd be going into the city after all.

His feet carried him forward, and he hardly noticed the night time New Orleans landscape.

He'd visited the famous No. 1 cemetery only once before with Devon. That had been during daylight hours. The cemetery was closed and locked up at night.

Eventually he reached the gates, looking around to make sure there were no Garden District onlookers. He focused and then jumped a backflip, spinning somewhat expertly beyond the gates and into the graveyard.

The inside was much darker than the street outside, the orange glow of the nearby streetlights providing the only light in the place besides the moon.

Stiles looked around, knowing that the man was here, even if he couldn't see him.

Eventually he saw the trench coat-clad back turned to him just ahead. Apparently the man was looking at one of the old, crumbling masoleums.

"Good of you to come," the man spoke in a voice that dripped malice and danger.

He spun around suddenly, and everything had changed. The trench coat was gone. Stiles was looking at what he had thought he'd seen earlier and feared...

The man was an Oni clad in the usual ninja-like outfit, but this one was different. The mask had horns. It wasn't a sword the Oni drew from his belt- it was a spear!

The spear started to crackle as blue electrical energy started to pulse up and down the shaft.

Stiles dodged aside just as the Oni lunged. The spear entered the ground and a rain of sparks flew dangerously.

Stiles remembered what he'd heard Kira could do as a Kitsune- channel different energies through her body.

Stiles quickly tried to feel the gentle breeze in the cemetery as though it were one with him, flowing through his body.

He threw out his arms and a collective whirlwind lept forward chaotically, missing the Oni, but knocking down a few memorial stones.

The Oni took a crouching position as though waiting for his moment. Stiles knew it would be safest to wait him out, taking a similar position, claws raised and ready.

The Oni lunged forward with the spear outstretched. Stiles also pressed on, dropping and rolling just as the spear would have made contact. He quickly jerked around and gave the Oni a kick, sending it flying into the masoleum with a loud crunching of stone.

The spear was still resting on the ground nearby, pulsing with electric light.

Stiles wondered if it was safe to take it, but remembered his Kitsune ability to channel energy. He grabbed up the spear and rushed the Oni, but it was too quick, quickly leaping into the tree branches above.

He would never be able to defeat it at this rate. It was too fast.

Then something came back to him in a rush of memory. Kitsunes could control the Oni- and when he'd been a Nogitsune...

He remembered vaguely that night in the hospital when the Nogitsune had used his body to turn the Oni into harmless fireflies.

Stiles held out a hand, willing the creature to bend to his will as a fox spirit.

The Oni shreiked loudly and jerked violently, as though trying to move, but it couldn't.

Stiles pulled back the spear with his other arm and then thrust it hard. It pierced through the Oni's heart. The creature wailed in anger and pain as it came apart once more, dissolving into the air like black smoke. The spear also dissolved as soon as it hit the ground.

Stiles walked forward, searching for what he had come for. He found a rather larger piece of the medallion, black like the much smaller shard he had.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the smaller piece, watching in wide-eyed awe as the pieces in his hand seemed to radiate with a purple light before drawing together- becoming one.

It also suddenly occured to him that the man the Oni had attacked earlier had somehow had a piece of the medallion, and the creature had taken it from him.

Had this Oni been working for someone? Was that someone nearby?

The wind in the graveyard suddenly seemed much colder, as Stiles shivered with anxiety.


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Stiles didn't even have time to return to the dorm before Devon headed him off with a text message.

_Meet me at the Days Inn near campus_

Of course he knew what it was about. Their dorm window would have to be repaired, and he really wasn't concerned rather the university would be subsidizing their hotel stay or not. He had more important things on his mind.

Sure enough, he entered the lobby of the hotel to find Devon waiting, two tote bags already packed at his feet.

"You're the best Dev," Stiles told him with a smile.

Devon grinned and grabbed Stiles by the shirt, pulling him against him as their lips connected. Neither of them cared about whomever may be looking.

"You scared me Stilinski," Devon whispered against his lips.

"I told you I'd be fine," Stiles replied with a wink.

He and Devon grabbed up a tote bag each, while they held each other's hand with the other.

Their room was 307 on the third floor, and Stiles found his mind going back in time briefly to a night some years ago now, and a hotel stay he'd never forget.

He already knew that this would be nothing like that. He was here with Devon, who wasted no time in kicking back against one of the room's full-size beds and gesturing for Stiles to come forward.

Stiles hesitated for only a second before grinning and practically leaping into Devon's arms, tumbling across the mattress. The two of them shared a heated, open-mouthed kiss with plenty of moaning and touching.

"I never would have forseen it this way Dev."

Stiles had lay his head against Devon's shirt-clad chest.

"What's that Stiles?"

"That I'd come here," Stiles said. "Meet you. Feel like I'd fallen in love with the one meant for me all along."

"I feel the same, California dream."

The two of them simply lay snuggled together like that in silence. Before long Stiles was snoozing peacefully against his newfound lover's chest.

"I'm never letting you go Stiles," Devon spoke aloud softly, as his fingers raked through the other man's brunette hair. "Come here or California, you're mine."

oooOoooooOooo

Stiles awoke to the smell of coffee and the alarm going off. 6:30 am. They did have classes, after all...

"Good morning California dream," Devon greeted, using the same nickname he'd used the night before.

"Louisiana boy," Stiles replied with a yawn and a lopsided smile.

"You know it," Devon replied, placing a steaming mug of coffee on the bedside table. "Shower first or news?"

"News," Stiles yawned, sitting up and taking his mug of coffee.

The hotel room was filled with the immediate anxiety of the male news anchor that handled mornings on Fox 8 News.

"Police are at a loss, and doctors are baffled. The man who was attacked yesterday still hasn't awoken from this mysterious sleep, and now three more victims have joined him."

Stiles felt an immediate rush of anxiety. Wouldn't taking care of the Oni have caused its victim to wake up?

No, Stiles immediately concluded. The Oni only served a master- a Kitsune, which meant there was one nearby.

"Do you think it has something to do with the foxes?" Devon asked him with a worried expression.

"I definitely do," Stiles agreed, attempting to keep the anxiety out of his voice. "You know I'm a Kitsune now. I figure there must be another one somewhere."

"I almost wish we didn't have to attend classes today!" Devon exclaimed irritably.

"We'll be alright," Stiles said, even though he wasn't entirely convinced. "Let's just try to stay together as much as possible today."

Still, Stiles didn't like this. He couldn't be around Devon 24/7 to keep watch over him. He'd simply have to trust that his boyfriend would be alright.


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

He and Devon didn't have lunch together in the food court like they usually did, and it made Stiles anxious. Devon's text claimed he had things to do: the typical excuses a person gives until you get the drift- they don't want you around.

Stiles's mind naturally jumped to the worst conclusion: that maybe Devon was having second thoughts about their relationship. No- that simply couldn't be!

Devon was probably nervous about the attacks. He'd already made his anxiety pretty clear, and Stiles was anxious too. He hoped Devon was safe, and preferrably he'd remained on campus.

He had finished up lunch and was leaving the food court when his phone began to vibrate in his jeans pocket. It kept vibrating, meaning he probably shouldn't ignore it.

Stiles sighed when he looked at who the incoming caller was, and wondered what _he _could want.

"Yo Sourwolf," he greeted, trying to sound non-chalant and calm.

"Hey," Derek replied simply in that non-emotional way of his. "I heard something interesting from Scott yesterday. Kira has you working on some medallion quest?"

"Medallion quest?" Stiles snickered in reply. "What is this: Skyrim?"

"Oh god just... " Derek sighed with impatience. "Can you stay on focus Stiles?"

"Sure, sorry."

At least Derek rarely got angry at his antics anymore- only slightly irritated.

"Anyway," the wolf said. "How goes... _things_?"

Stiles wasn't sure rather to feel amused or sympathy at Derek's frequent emotional hangups.

"Oh you know," Stiles replied casually. "_Things_ are okay. I actually danced with Oni in a graveyard last night. One Oni, mind you!"

"You what?" Derek asked with slight skepticism, like Stiles might be playing a trick on him.

"You heard. I got a piece of the medallion too. You'll never guess what else I got!"

"Oh?" Derek queried, managing to sound at least a tiny bit interested.

"I got... um... well... "

"Just spit it out Stiles!"

"I got a boyfriend," Stiles stammered quickly.

Silence...

"Did you just say," Derek began moments later, " ...that you have a _boyfriend_?"

"And is something wrong with that!?" Stiles retorted defensively.

"I didn't say that! Geez. I always kinda suspected, but do me a favor. Spare me the details."

"You got it," Stiles laughed good-naturedly in reply. "Well it was good talking to you. I have a class to get to."

Actually he didn't, but talking to Derek was always so awakward. Not necessarily awkward in a 'bad' way, but awkward because of the emotional constipation.

"Well okay," Derek said. "You, um... call me whenever. K?"

"K, c'ya."

Stiles released an audible exhale after the call ended. Talking to Derek was always so... 'confusing', to say the least.

Now his mind wasn't on Devon, it was on Derek and what he might be doing right this moment in New York.

Stiles sighed and buried his hands in his jeans pockets as he walked. Hadn't he put himself through enough over Derek Hale's problems back in Beacon Hills?

It was quite some years later now, and he still couldn't quite identify what it was he felt when it came to the older man. Pity? Sadness at all the older man had lost? Compassion?

He also understood. He'd lost a few people dear to him, but only one his mind would never allow him to forget for very long.

That was why he and Derek were friends. They got one another in ways no one else did. Not like he and Devon got one another- they were just really good friends.

And Stiles knew Derek would never in a million years admit it.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Devon exited the Starbucks located just a few blocks from campus. He figured he'd better get back and explain to Stiles. He wasn't upset or anything, he'd just needed some time to himself to process everything.

Yes, he loved Stiles, but- Stiles being some _Kitsune_ was still a lot to absorb.

It didn't change who Stiles was, Devon decided as he took an alley shortcut. He still loved the other man with all his being.

Generally speaking, it isn't safe to shortcut it through alleyways in New Orleans, but close to UNO there was enough security and police.

Devon saw something move above him out of the corner of his eye and turned. There was a fox a few paces away behind him.

He immediately felt panic, knowing foxes didn't just appear in alleyways in New Orleans. Yet, he couldn't run. The creature's eyes had drawn him- almost captured him. Now his own eyelids felt suddenly heavy.

He was still anxious, but it was draining out of him. He yawned and found it hard to stand up suddenly. His eyes slid shut. He felt himself sway one more time. Was he falling?

It didn't matter. Sweet sleep took him.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Stiles knew something wasn't right when Devon didn't answer his texts for half an hour. He decided to turn up at his next period, just to make sure Devon was where he should be.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stilinski," Professor Carlisle said apologetically. "He never showed."

Stiles inhaled, willing himself not to panic. Not to have an anxiety attack. That wouldn't help Devon- or himself.

He made a call to the hospital- praying he was wrong...

"Yes ma'am," he said when the receptionist's voice greeted him. "I'm wondering if a Devon Landry has been admitted?"

"Let me check."

Please be wrong... please be wrong...

"Landry you said? Oh dear... he was admitted with the... "

Stiles felt his heart sink in horror and grief.

"The sleeping sickness," she finished in a near a whisper.

Stiles shakily hung up the call as tears slid down his face. He should never have let Devon go off alone. He hadn't known this would happen.

What if he couldn't find the other Kitsune?

He wasted no time in informing Ethal that he wouldn't be in that afternoon.

"Is something wrong honey?" she asked him on the other end of the phone call. "You sound upset."

"Its my roommate," he explained, trying not to cry.

"I see," she said gently. "He must mean a lot to you."

"Yeah, we're good friends."

Stiles wasn't sure he was ready to share that aspect of he and Devon's relationship with too many people yet. Ethal was totally understanding and promised to light a candle for Devon.

It was seeing his love laid back on a hospital bed, hooked up to that horrible, yet familiar machine that really hit Stiles. He sobbed without restraint.

"If only I'd been there," Stiles choked aloud.

Devon looked so peaceful he might only be asleep, but he might not ever wake up. It would be his fault!


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

Stiles sat by Devon's bedside a long time, just looking at face deathly silent in sleep, and wondering what he could do to help.

He'd finally found the love he'd searched for. Now it had come to this. Devon might not ever wake again.

Trying to use whatever fox magic he might have hadn't helped.

"Please Dev," Stiles whispered, holding his boyfriend's hand, willing his own power to flow into him. "Wake up. If you hear me."

Nothing happened. Stiles inhaled heavily through fresh tears and pulled out his phone.

He could call Scott, but explaining to his best friend that he even had a boyfriend was something he didn't want to do right now.

There was only one person to call...

"Hello."

"Derek," Stiles said in a broken voice, near a whisper.

"Stiles? What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"No Derek," Stiles stated, all emotion gone from his voice. "Devon was attacked... "

Derek was silent, but Stiles heard the werewolf inhale on the other end.

"You mean something happened?" Derek asked, trying to sound non-hostile and concerned.

"Yes," Stiles choked, again it was almost a whisper. "It was a Nogitsune."

"Stiles," Derek said seriously. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

Silence again and another inhale from Derek's end.

"Do you want me to come there?" the Sourwolf asked finally. "Do you need me?"

Stiles felt a rush of surprise.

"You would do that... for me?"

"Yes Stiles I would," Derek replied, sounding a little annoyed now. "You think I don't care?"

"I don't think that," Stiles said honestly.

Stiles remained silent, not sure what he should do. Should he tell Derek yes? Wouldn't that be selfish? The older man would be dropping everything in New York for him.

"Right then," Derek spoke. "I'm coming."

"You are?" Stiles asked in surprise.

"You bet! You'll always be pack, rather you believe that or not."

Stiles was actually touched by the sentiment. He thought back to that night at the police station during the Kanima ordeal, when Derek had made Isaac back off with his alpha roar.

"Derek?"

"Yeah?" the older man asked.

"Thank you."

That wasn't really all he'd wanted to say, but its all he could bring himself to.

"I'll see you soon," Derek said before the call disconnected.

Stiles simply stared forward after that for a long time. He didn't put his phone back in his pocket. He was looking at Devon, but his mind was a jumble of conflicting emotions.

He wanted Devon to be alright- to wake up, and maybe announce this wall all some joke.

Stiles knew it wasn't. Even more complex, now Derek was coming- coming into a part of Stiles's life he hadn't been introduced into yet.

Derek had left Beacon Hills before their senior year. Stiles hadn't seen him in over two years.

His mind went back to the last time they'd seen one another, though it seemed very distant now. Memories always seem distant until we allow ourselves to revisit them.

He'd decided to go visit Derek at the loft one more time on the morning of the day the older man was to leave Beacon Hills.

He'd never forget how different the loft looked with a small mountain of boxes ready to go out to the SUV, not that Derek owned a lot of stuff.

"You're really going to leave then," Stiles had said, still standing in the doorway of the loft.

"I am," Derek replied simply, eying Stiles with a expression that was neither hostile or friendly. "I guess I should have expected you to drop by."

"Whadaya mean?" Stiles asked curiously.

"That's just you," Derek said in explanation. "You look out for people. You're... a good friend."

Stiles snorted in disbelief.

"Now stop it," Derek chided playfully, with the smallest hint of a smile. "Let's not drag this out Stiles. You know I hate playing emotion."

Stiles had actually felt a little hurt. Did Derek mean it was all an act? Even them being friends? He stared at the older man for a long moment, and Derek stared back, his eyes betraying no particular emotion.

"Well goodbye," Stiles said.

He couldn't just leave it at that though. He bounded across the loft before he could reconsider- wrapping his arms around Derek in a hug.

The older man simply raised his arm and patted Stiles's back in reply.

"Goodbye Stiles."

Stiles might not have been able to bear seeing Derek's expression when he pulled away, so he made a clean break of it. He turned around after breaking the hug and ran out of the loft without looking back. What had Derek's expression been? What had he thought?

Stiles returned to the present, eyes still focused on Devon's seemingly lifeless form.

He almost wanted to see Derek now. He needed someone- someone familiar from his past. Family.

There was nothing else for him to do except wait for Derek to arrive. He only had a few ideas of how he might find the Nogitsune, but he would need help. He didn't want to face an opponent like that dark shadow from his past without help.

Stiles yawned a little and placed his hand over Devon's.

"I'll still be here Dev," he whispered. "Dream of me. I love you."

Stiles felt tears streak down his cheeks even as his eyes closed in sleep. Soon he went under in the ebb of his emotions.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Stiles yawned and awakened to a ringing sound. He knew he must have been out for some hours now.

"Hello?" he asked, yawning into the reciever.

"Hey I'm in the lobby," Derek said. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Nah, I'll be right there."

Even though he'd just woken up he felt invigorated. Derek was actually here.

He walked down the hospital corridor, thinking he couldn't go fast enough. What if it somehow weren't true? He hadn't seen Derek in two long years.

His heart nearly exploded when he went through the double doors into the lobby and caught sight of those same features seated there- those mysterious eyes were fixed on him with something like a smile.

"Derek!" Stiles exclaimed.

Derek stood and this time he opened his arms to recieve Stiles's embrace.

"Hey," Derek said more good-naturedly than Stiles ever remembered. "I actually missed you... a little."

"Gee thanks," Stiles snickered, pulling away from their hug. "I'm happy to see you."

He really was. Even in spite of current circumstances. It was good to have an old, familiar face to turn to.

"You hungry?" Derek asked him. "I'm starved."

"I could go for something," Stiles said agreeably.

"Great. Let's walk."

The two of them exited the hospital through the automatic sliding door, finding themselves in the muggy night air of New Orleans.

"I'm happy to see you," Stiles said, trying to make conversation.

"Good," Derek grunted, still looking forward as they walked.

Stiles didn't expect Derek to display much emotion, but he knew the Sourwolf was happy to see him too.

"So how's New York?"

"Stuff," Derek said, staying true to his short answers. "Mostly pack stuff. There's another pack in New York."

"Figures," Stiles replied. "A werewolf's life huh?"

"You got it," Derek said, burying his hands in his jeans pockets as they walked.

The two of them remained silent the entire block.

"There's a coffee shop just ahead," Stiles suggested when they reached an intersection. "You up for it?"

"It'll do," Derek agreed shortly. "We can talk a little more I guess."

Well, that was Derek for ya.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

Derek placed a steaming cup of Caramel Mocha Latte, Stiles's favorite in front of him- taking his own coffee black as usual.

"You remembered," Stiles said with a small smile.

"Well sure," Derek replied off-handedly. "I'm not totally unperceptive."

Stiles sighed and looked into the distance, thinking of Devon- not really drinking his coffee.

"Hey Stiles."

He looked at Derek again at the hint of concern in the werewolf's voice. Those eyes were actually sympathetic and understanding.

"I know you're upset," Derek said shortly. "He'll wake up. I'm here to help."

The look as he said it was one of those half-hopeful, half-sad looks Derek rarely gave. Maybe there was something else to the sadness, but Stiles didn't want to dig up Derek's emotional baggage.

"So tell me about New York."

It was Derek's turn to look a little distant. He looked down at his coffee for a long time before sighing. He began to unfold his tale.

"When Laura and I lived in New York, before you met me- there was this other pack called the Cartwrights. Their alpha was really friendly to Laura and me. I hoped to re-connect, but the old alpha died."

"Man or woman?" Stiles asked.

Derek snorted in amusement.

"Only you would ask something that way. Man, but a really older man. Older than my mother. He had this older son named Andrew. Well he's alpha now. He's always come off kind of arrogant- boastful. In a way totally not like you."

"Gee thanks," Stiles quipped sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Derek retorted with a small smirk. "We're on peaceable terms, but he made it clear in not so many words he doesn't want another pack on his turf. Maybe he just doesn't want my pack."

"But wait a second! You don't have a pack."

"I don't have an organized pack," Derek disagreed. "Isaac is pack. Jackson's pack. Even you're pack."

Derek gave him a long, intense look, so Stiles had to assume he was serious. He didn't challenge it.

"Well problem is," Derek went on, "...Jackson. He wants to come back again. Says he still considers me his alpha if I'll have him."

"Jackson, wow. Now there's a name I haven't heard in... its been a long time."

"He stays in touch with me," Derek said off-handedly in a casual manner. "He asks for my advice on shifting and stuff sometimes. We talk on Skype."

Derek looked dead serious, and Stiles knew by now when he shouldn't contradict the Sourwolf. Maybe a little time away from one another had done wonders on their friendship- not to mention interaction skills.

"That's all really," Derek finished simply. "I have nothing to hurry back to New York for."

"You don't work?"

"Part-time," Derek shrugged. "Nothing they can't spare me some off time for. You know I manage without a job."

Stiles coughed and fought down the urge to make a whimsical comeback. He knew about Derek's seemingly endless inheritance money, but that was a sore subject.

"Now about your," Derek paused awkwardly. "...boyfriend."

"My boyfriend Derek!" Stiles snapped with a little of the old sarcasm. You can say boyfriend Derek."

"Right your boyfriend. Its not that I have a problem, its just weird. I'm not sure I ever pegged you for entirely bisexual."

"Wait... what?"

Derek had thought he was somewhat bisexual?

"How did you know that?" Stiles gawked.

"Don't act so shocked," Derek smirked, pointing at his head. "I know things. My gaydar isn't terrible, let's say. Don't ask questions either."

Stiles shrugged. There was enough of the old Derek in the end of that statement that the younger man knew not to ask. Still- Derek's gaydar?

"Yeah I'm bi okay?" Stiles challenged slightly defensive.

"Again," Derek said flatly. "So?"

"You brought it up," the younger man reminded him.

"Forget I did," Derek said shortly, obviously trying to reel in his mild annoyance. "I just... "

Derek inhaled, feeling guilty that he was already falling back into his old mannerisms, and Stiles didn't need that right now. He needed support.

"Do you have a plan to wake him up?" Derek asked, considerably nicer again.

"Oh Devon?" Stiles asked, a little side-tracked by the change in conversation, but feeling immediate grief again. The younger man frowned before answering. "I have this idea that there's a Nogitsune in the area. Lots of foxes and stuff."

"Its a Nogitsune doing this?" Derek sounded a little worried.

"Unfortunately, I think so. I fought an Oni last night, in the graveyard."

Derek eyed him skeptically, but he didn't question it.

"Well you're right," the werewolf said with a weary sigh. "An Oni means a fox in the grass somewhere. Its not you is it?"

"What, you think I can't control being a Kitsune?"

"Its possible," Derek shrugged. "No, I don't think that's likely though. I just... "

Derek paused, glancing at Stiles with a look that said many things- a tormented memory, anxiety, worry...

"Do you know how much I hated it?" he asked in a quiet voice. "I thought we might have to kill you."

Oh my god, Stiles thought, having to stop himself from gawking in surprise. Derek looked sad. No, that wasn't terribly surprising really. Derek paid more attention than anyone gave him credit for, and he did care about others- a lot. Stiles knew that.

"What did you feel?" Stiles asked in a near a whisper, asking the question he really wanted an answer to, yet part of him didn't. This was a part of his feelings he was sure Derek wouldn't appreciate.

"Pretty shitty," Derek admitted, and the casuality of his voice closed the topic, or so he thought. "You are a friend Stiles. A good friend."

Derek was giving him a half-sad look again, and also a serious look- like when Derek expected you to get what his expressions meant, or take a guess.

Stiles had thought a few times over the years, and now was one of those times- just how did Derek feel? About him?

His mind replayed a moment from years ago. A few moments actually, but it would be pointless to think about these things now.

"You know Derek, being a Kitsune is different." It was a convenient change of topic- for both of them. "I finally get the supernatural thing- a little."

"It still seems so... unlikely. You being a Kitsune like Kira, but I guess in a way it does fit. You've always had a trickster personality."

Stiles smirked at that. It was true, even though it was one of the things the Nogitsune had used against him. It was still true.

"So," Stiles spoke. "Any ideas on how to find a Nogitsune?"

"Only one," Derek said. "The Oni."

"Man I hate those things," Stiles whined. "They can turn on you."

He felt an immediate pang of guilt. That's what had happened to Allison. The Oni had turned on Kira...

Stiles had to reach for his focus. He WOULD NOT show that level of weakness around Derek.

"I know Stiles," Derek said understandingly. "It might be our only choice."

"No it isn't though," Stiles said, his face lighting up like he suddenly had an idea. "A Nogitsune likes chaos. We just have to... create enough chaos."

"We don't even have to do that," Derek realized aloud, his brain having clicked with Stiles's idea. "The French Quarter has plenty of chaos. Wouldn't you say a place like that would draw a Nogitsune- especially at night?"

"You know," Stiles replied, eyes wide with realization. "I think it would."

His eyes suddenly danced with both determination and hope. He could find the Nogitsune, quite possibly tonight. Would Devon wake up?

It was all he could hope.

"You ready to go Hale?"

Derek smirked, ever ready to rise to a challenge.

"Ready when you are."


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

Bourbon Street was like an entirely different world at night- a world Stiles had only entered once with Devon just after he'd started at UNO.

The French Quarter was still a din of people packed like sardines in a can, just like during the day.

Stiles kept casting a glance over his shoulder as they walked. He didn't like this. He already felt like they were being watched. It was probably the Nogitsune, but it was hard to tell.

One was always being watched by a throng of people in New Orleans at night, but this was like feeling unexplainedly stalked.

"Derek," he hissed, just loud enough for his companion to hear him over the throng of jazz music and people pouring out of bars. "Do you feel anything?"

"We're being watched," Derek replied as uneasily as he felt.

Stiles looked around again. He felt like he should be able to spot whoever it was. Then he caught sight of a red-headed girl about his age with extremely pale skin eying him intensely.

Her partner was also young, but considerably taller with curly black hair and a gentle, inviting face, almost like an angel's. They both had chalk white skin, and Stiles immediately knew they weren't human. His stomach twisted slightly at what he figured they must be.

"Derek are vampires real?"

"What!?" Derek asked strangely, then he noticed them too, following Stiles's line of sight.

The red-head smiled the most subtle of smiles, and beckoned to them before turning slowly and beginning to walk. Stiles was sure it was purposeful.

"Come on!" Stiles said to Derek, beginning to sprint.

"This isn't a good idea," Derek warned, already speeding up to keep pace.

The red-head and her companion turned off the sidewalk ahead into a side alley. Now Stiles was sure they were meant to follow.

He and Derek were somewhat wary of a New Orleans alley at night, but they were both super-strong supernatural creatures- right?

Stiles inhaled and felt like he had to follow when Derek went first.

The alley was empty...

Stiles looked around.

"No one here... "

Something flashed by him suddenly. It happened so fast. Derek was pinned against a wall by his throat by the male creature. He snarled, flashing his fangs, but struggling was useless.

"He can't escape."

It was the red-head, and she looked like she was enjoying some twisted game.

"What do you want with us!?" Stiles demanded.

"I know what you are," the red-head replied simply, looking to Derek. "I know what he is. You can't fight us, so I wouldn't try if I were you. Surely you know what we are?"

Stiles hesitated, but something in her eyes seemed to challenge- almost coax him into saying it.

"Vampire."

"That's right," she said. "Very good. I can read your mind right now. Such fascinating thoughts! You have no idea how I long for your blood. All the emotions I could feel! You're the nerdy type. Just the types I like."

Stiles gulped. He knew he couldn't run. She'd have him in a flash.

"I'm not going to though," she added suddenly. "It would destroy you. You're a Kitsune, and Kitsune can't survive changes to the host body."

Derek growled, but he seemed to have realized struggling was pointless. The male vampire still had him pinned, but he turned his eyes on Stiles with mild fascination.

"Why seek us out then!?" Stiles demanded.

"We're seeking one like you," the girl said simply. "Yet, not like you. We wanted to employ your help, and learn if you be friend or foe."

Stiles thought that this girl talked kind of strange, almost like a walking classical poetry book.

"I'm Mona, by the way. My companion is Quinn. He won't hurt you."

"I'm really quite nice," Quinn spoke. "I'm a little worried to release your friend here though."

It was said without any hint of malice whatsoever, and Stiles saw now that these vampires could be trusted.

"Derek," Stiles spoke. "You won't hurt him if he releases you?"

He could have swore he heard the rumble in Derek's chest from where he was standing.

"No," Derek growled, shutting his eyes, and the fangs started to retract. "I won't attack you."

Quinn blinked a few times in mild surprise before simply releasing his arm. Derek was as good as his word. Stiles knew the werewolf very much wanted to tear the vampire limb from limb, but Derek clenched his fist at his side and contained it.

"What makes you so strong anyway?" Derek asked roughly.

"I have the blood of a really old one," Quinn answered. "Mona does too. He made her. He did not make me."

"He isn't here?"

"He's away from New Orleans currently," Mona said. "That hardly matters, does it? We patrol his city for him when he's away. The Nogitsune is causing trouble."

"You know what its called," Stiles said in mild surprise.

Mona nodded.

"Let's just say we know people in the know about the supernatural. Even about werewolves and fox spirits. I can sense this thing is near, probably stalking more victims. It probably drains their life force slowly by placing them under this sleeping spell."

It was different than the Nogitsune that had once controlled him then...

"If I can sense it, surely your friend here should be able to."

"Derek," he said, supplying his name.

"Yeah, and I'm Stiles."

"Nice to meet you," Mona said ernestly. "We'd love to sit down and have a long talk with you, but now isn't the time. We can only hunt the thing at night."

That made sense. Vampires and coffins...

"You can't sense anything Derek?"

It wasn't an ability he used often, and not one he'd thought about using in such a throng of people. Yet Derek could sense something now that he tried- and very close!

"Follow!" he instructed, already on the run.

They were about to meet this Nogitsune, for better or for worse...


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

Stiles picked up the pace, willing himself to move at Kitsune speed, so he wouldn't lose Derek. He was shocked to see Mona and Quinn sprinting beside him.

This was still the back streets. Why was Derek taking them this way, and why was this Mona girl looking at him?

She was running, yet her eyes were fixed on him, and she actually smiled in a gentle way.

"Stop that!" Stiles snapped at her, clenching his teeth to keep pace.

"Sorry," Mona huffed slightly, never falling behind for a second. "Its just... forget it."

She actually looked forward now, but Stiles hadn't actually minded her looking at him much. He was just being his overly dramatic self.

He felt like eyes were on him again and turned to find Quinn looking at him as though he were just slightly interesting. Stiles felt desire rush through him immediately, even in spite of Devon.

These vampires were dangerous. Their bodies were designed to allure- to entrap their victims. Quinn gave him a playful smirk before looking ahead to Derek.

"Still know where he is Hale!?" Stiles shouted.

"He's moving," Derek grunted, gritting his teeth as sweat poured off his face. "I can't gain on him."

The alpha stopped and buckled over a little, hands on his knees as he panted for breath. Stiles did the same, but Mona and Quinn didn't seem worn out at all. They really were immortal... and that was a key difference, Stiles realized.

"Do you ever sweat blood?"

Derek looked at him in the old Derek kind of way at how quickly he could switch focuses, but Quinn shook his head.

"No," he said simply. "We can cry blood, but we don't sweat."

Stiles thought about that and decided he'd rather not pursue the subject further.

"Any way we can find it?" he asked instead. "Its clearly too fast to track. It obviously sensed us coming."

"There might be a way, but I'd need to think. Maybe we could go see my aunt."

"Your aunt?" Stiles asked in mild curiosity. "What help could she be?"

"She lives in the Garden District, in a house on First Street. She might be at the medical center though. She's a doctor you see, but I bet Uncle Michael could still help. He has a kind of ability with his hands, when he tries."

"Your aunt and uncle are human?"

"Oh yes," Mona replied. "Witches to be exact."

Stiles looked a little uneasy at that, but he said nothing. He knew that his spark wasn't just for drawing the supernatural to him. His mother had also had it. It was a witch trait.

"Well okay," Stiles managed to say at last. "Let's go see this uncle of yours. The Garden District... "

"We can take the back streets," Mona said quickly. "I also know all the roads that are pretty well dead this time of night. Just follow me and Quinn."

Stiles looked at Derek who merely grunted and gave a nod. Mona looked at Quinn and the two of them took off, making Stiles and Derek hustle to keep up.

The two blurs weren't very far ahead, and Derek matched him stride for stride.

"Wow Stiles," Derek huffed from beside him, and he was actually grinning a little. "You really are something else now. You can- you can run like one of us."

"I am one of you," Stiles grunted in reply. "Remember?"

Derek didn't reply, and the two of them kept running. They didn't know how long they had actually ran. It was like being in some weird hyper vortex. Mona and Quinn suddenly stopped, and so did they.

Stiles recognized the well kept lawns and upscale houses. He'd only been to the Garden District once as well, and it had been a brief tour in the Jeep.

He thought about Devon again, who had been with him on the occasion. Devon's smile... his honey golden hair...

He wiped at his eyes a little and Derek noticed. Mona and Quinn did as well.

"Oh I'm alright," Stiles assured them, forcing a half-hearted chuckle.

In truth he wanted to break down into Derek's arms right there, but he couldn't let any of them see. That was one thing he and Derek shared in common- emotion was weakness. Emotions were to be hid. They got in the way.

"Where's this house any way?"

Mona pointed two houses up. Stiles could already see the fence and gate from this distance. There was quite a hedge around the place with trees and shrubs.

When they reached the end of the drive he was looking at a house that was surely out of the last century at least. The house had a porch that seemed to go around it. There were white columns and a keyhole shaped doorway. Stiles found that he liked it.

"This is a lot like my house," Derek said sidelong to Stiles. "Before, you know... "

Yes, he knew.

Mona gestured for them to follow and began a slow walk up the pavement leading to the house. Stiles noticed that she seemed to be savoring everything: the overgrown hedge, the flowers, and even a pool in the distance surrounded with flagstones. It was like this was home, and she was glad.

Mona knocked at the door.

"Uncle Michael could be asleep," she said knowingly. "Give him a few."

However, the door opened in less than a minute, and there stood an older man with hint-of-salt black pepper hair, and a somewhat stocky appearance in one of those old bathrobes right out of the movies.

"Mona," the man said in slight surprise. "Quinn... "

"Hi Uncle Michael!" Mona enthused throwing herself at him.

"I missed you honey," Michael said, rubbing her back gently. "I'm glad to see you and Quinn are safe. Your aunt will be happy too."

Mona broke their embrace.

"Uncle Michael, this is Derek and Stiles. They're new friends of ours."

Michael eyed them a little distrustfully, raising an eyebrow.

"Supernatural creatures?" he asked, as though he clearly suspected it.

"Not vampires," Mona said as though that settled everything. "Stiles is human- more or less. Derek's a werewolf."

Michael gaped in surprise at the older of his niece's new friends, but quickly realized it was rude.

"Well welcome," he said, managing a friendly smile. "Come on in. Any friend of Mona or Quinn's is welcome here."

Soon they found themselves in a large double parlor, and it confirmed Stiles's suspicions about the house's age. He also got the feeling that a lot had taken place here... a lot of emotional heartache. There had been both pleasure and suffering.

The place seemed to be permeated with all these emotions actually.

"This is an interesting house," Stiles remarked off-handedly.

"I always love it when people say that," Michael said. "It runs in my wife's family you could say."

Stiles found himself drawn to the portrait of an elderly gentleman that hung on a nearby wall. The man had well-kept white hair and piercing blue eyes, but he had still looked quite handsome at his age- in a gentlemanly kind of way.

"That's Uncle Julien," Mona explained at his clear fascination in the portrait. "He's one of the friendly ghosts, you could say."

Stiles didn't even want to know if she was serious.

"Now back to the matter of the Nogitsune," Derek said, knowing how Stiles could get off track.

"Nah-gitsu-whah?" Michael asked strangely.

"Its a kind of a fox spirit, Uncle Michael," Mona explained, giving the very short explanation. "That's why we're here actually. Have you seen about the weird sleeping sickness?"

"That was on the news," Michael confirmed. "I knew it must be supernatural, but couldn't quite place it. Your aunt is terribly interested in it actually, but the medical center hasn't gotten the go-ahead to study it yet. Obviously the victims are still out so... "

Michael cut off, figuring that was all that needed to be said.

"Can you still do your hand thing, Uncle Michael?"

"Honey," Michael sighed, giving her a painful grimace. "You know I don't like to. Its not as easy as it once was. Yes... I can do it."

He sighed again, but clearly he was prepared to help. Stiles could tell he was a nice guy. How had he gotten tied up with witches? Should Stiles mention that he himself was a witch? His powers had never been very significant beyond a keen intuition and an extremely limited gift in divination.

He could try divining if this hand thing failed, but he didn't like messing in such things. Not since the Nogitsune. He used to mess around with a Ouija board sometimes.

What did he have on these witches though? Clearly that's what Mona was, or had been before becoming a vampire. New Orleans witches...

"What do you want me to look at?" Michael asked.

It suddenly clicked. Stiles extracted the Yin Yang piece from his pocket and handed it to Michael.

"The Nogitsune had to have given this to the Oni, who I won it from."

"Oni... " Michael said, looking extremely puzzled.

"No time Uncle Michael," Mona replied quickly.

"Right," Michael said agreeably. "You'll have to give me a little while. Why don't you sit and I'll have one of the servants bring us somethin?"

Stiles agreed to this quite readily. He could use to sit after all their running, and this house was nice.

His gut twisted when he thought of Devon again. Michael was looking at the Yin Yang piece strangely, clearly still not getting anything yet. Stiles had no complaints about staying in this place awhile. It had a chaotic vibe to it, but Stiles liked it. It almost made him excited.


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

Stiles accepted a cup of black tea from a silver tray held by a servant named Henri. He'd never imagined being in a house like this, being served tea like he was filthy stinking rich.

He spooned sugar and poured a little cream into his tea and the servant moved down the line. Derek was already accepting his cup.

Michael was still pondering, eyes closed, but face extremely concentrated as he stroked the black medallion piece with his thumb.

They all remained quiet watching him. Stiles gave Derek a sideward glance that spoke of amusement at their little high class tea time. Derek rolled his eyes slightly, but smiled a little, sipping at his cup.

Stiles didn't know why the gesture made him feel like he wanted to giggle impishly. Maybe because Derek rarely displayed so much emotion- or didn't used to...

Michael let out a surprised grunt, and his focus seemed to intensify, eyelids squeezing even tighter.

He gasped and his eyes shot open suddenly.

"It took me awhile," he said, looking directly at his niece. "I saw the fox thing. Oh honey... I've never seen anything so... _awful. _It handed a piece like this black thing to another ninja-like creature. I must have been seeing through the ninja-like thing's eyes then."

Michael paused and looked at Stiles in amazement.

"I saw it all," he whispered in awe. "I saw you fighting him, through his eyes. I saw more things, but they're not important... "

The older man seemed to hesitate uneasily.

"Michael," Mona spoke carefully. "Did you see where the Oni came from?"

"Ah, that was an Oni. I don't know where it was exactly sweetheart. I saw a strange building. I would have thought some kind of mansion, in the swamp... "

Quinn's gaze shot directly in Michael's direction.

"You don't think," Quinn began.

"It could be," Mona finished his thought for him.

"What?" Stiles asked curiously.

Quinn seemed to hesitate.

"Well Stiles," he began. "I left my family house in the keeping of the servants. I come from a great family like Mona does. My house is a manor, and its in a pretty swampish area, south of New Orleans. I don't want it to be true... "

He paused and gave Mona a injured look.

"I'm worried about my servants," he said simply. "One of them is an old friend, and has served my family for awhile."

"I understand," Derek spoke strangely, looking Quinn direct in the eye. "I grew up in a house. It was important to me. We never had servants, but it was important just the same, and it was burned down."

Derek screwed up his face into a sour look and Stiles pat his hand supportively. He knew it hurt Derek to talk about this still. It was a subject he tried to avoid.

"What I'm saying Quinn is if you love your home, and there's any chance the Nogitsune could be using it, we need to save it."

"You're right Derek," Quinn said. "My house is kind of in the middle of nowhere though, I warn you. We'd be far from any help."

Derek gave him a determined, hard gaze.

"We'll just have to make sure we win then."

oooOoooOoooOooo

Quinn's childhood home was at the end of a long muddy lane with mostly moss covered trees. Stiles was seeing the real Louisiana now- the real bayou.

Mona slammed the brake in front of the manor's front porch, eyes expressing anxiety.

"Its here," she said in a warning whisper.

They all threw open their doors and jumped out just as a gigantic creature shot up through the manor roof with a roar. It was a Nogitsune in its true primal form, unlike the one that had controlled Stiles. This one hadn't been killed and then burned alive.

The gigantic fox face was connected to a body at least fifteen feet long, with purplish-blue orbs of flame dancing around it in the air. Its enormous tail also had a fire ignited on its end.

It swooped down on them and they all divided and ran in different directions. Stiles started thinking how he could defeat it- how THEY could defeat it.

He gasped in surprise as the creature tackled Quinn some distance away and stared the vampire full long in the eyes. Quinn jerked his body as though trying to rise, before his eyes closed and he was out.

This had been a mistake! The Nogitsune was going to put all of his friends into a sleep they'd never wake from. It was his fault again.

Derek roared and rushed past him in full wolfed out form.

"Derek no!" Stiles shouted, running after him.

Mona reached the creature first, making sure to keep her eyes adverted as she dodged its thrusts and claws at lightning speed. She dropped and rolled to dodge another of the massive fox's descents. Then she jumped and looked at it, but not in the eyes.

It roared out as a fire not its own ignited across its fur. One of the purple-blue orbs flickered out, then another...

Mona thought she'd beaten it. She shrieked when it suddenly pounced her much faster than any of them could have anticipated, catching her between its massive paws.

She was looking in its eyes. Her eyes had closed too.

Derek got ready to rush again. Stiles jumped, landing on his knees, and embraced Derek from behind.

"Derek no," he pleaded. "Please don't do this."

"I'm protecting you," the werewolf said in a rough, firm voice. "Let me go Stiles!"

Stiles choked down a sob and slackened his hold, stiffling tears as Derek rushed in. They had all sacrificed themselves, and now Derek...

Stiles roared in a newly awakened rage, ears elongating into fox ears, and nails lengthening into razor sharp claws. He rushed past Derek on all fours.

"Stiles!" Derek called out.

Stiles ignored him and lunged at the giant fox demon, swiping hard across its fur. The beast roared with fury as another flame orb flickered out. It turned on Stiles and fixed him with its gaze.

Stiles couldn't move his eyes away. He thought about his spark. He was a Kitsune too. He willed his spark to push out- to shove it back...

He felt like something over him shattered and he was moving again. He stretched out his hands and willed the wind to channel through him.

The beast fixed him with maddened red eyes and barred its teeth. Stiles's eyes widened in horror as it lunged at him. It was suddenly knocked aside by a kick to ribs by Derek.

Dererk roared, alpha red eyes furious. Stiles directed the wind and tossed it, throwing a chaotic, whirling vortex of wind like a disc. The wind made impact and Stiles saw the remaining two orbs pop out like candles.

A glow radiated from the Nogitsune's golden fur and then dispersed like a burst of light. It was still levitating in the air, but it was groaning pitifully, and seemed unable to make any attacks. He'd knocked the wind out of it!

"Derek," Stiles said.

Those red eyes fixed on him and Derek nodded knowingly. Stiles grinned and outstretched his claws. He and Derek rushed it at once. The beast lot out a terrible wail, almost like a scream this time as both their claws ripped into it.

The tail flame flickered out. The light in the Nogitsune's eyes seemed to dim and its fur turned from golden to pitch black. It fell to the ground and its body fell apart in pieces, becoming nothing more but ash.

Lying on top of the ash was a huge white shard- another piece of the Yin Yang!

It was gigantic- easily a half.

Stiles willed the winds to carry him down gently. Mona and Quinn yawned and stretched, rubbing their eyes sleepily.

"Were we... " Quinn yawned, "...asleep... "

"You'll be okay now," Stiles said with a wide beaming smile. "And so will Devon!"

Derek smiled at Stiles knowingly and gave a small nod. Stiles thought back to the fight they'd just won together. Something had propelled him into a rage at the thought of anything happening to Derek.

He knew it was because Derek was a true friend, and Stiles could say after years- he did care about him.

Stiles proceeded to the heap of ash and picked up the medallion piece. He took the black piece out of his pocket and touched the two fragments together. They joined and quickly became one in his hand, much to his awe. There might be two or three pieces of this thing left...

"Over here Stiles," Quinn called to him.

They all followed the male vampire up the porch steps. Quinn opened the majestic wooden door slowly, face becoming devastated at the sight before him.

The once majestic manor was a wreck. Windows were shattered. The roof had massive holes, as did some of the walls. Stiles could already see bodies in the rubble.

He saw red tears... blood tears streak down Quinn's face. Mona placed a gentle hand on the vampire's shoulder.

Quinn wiped at his eyes, coating his hand and fingers slightly in blood.

"I'll be alright," he said in a broken voice, eyes terribly tragic. "I'm a vampire. I'm no stranger to death... "

That was all Stiles needed to hear to understand.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Stiles felt like his heart was about to explode from his chest as he made his way down the hospital corridor, heading for Devon's room. Was Devon awake? The receptionist had said they were all awake...

Quinn, Mona, and Derek were next to him. They all stopped outside the door and let Stiles have his space.

Devon turned his head from where it lay on the hospital bed and gave Stiles the most beautiful smile, seeming to make his blond hair even brighter.

Stiles ran to him, tears pouring down his face without shame and they embraced.

"You're awake," Stiles whispered, tears saturating his love's shoulder.

"Shhh," Devon said gently, running his fingers through Stiles's hair. "I'm okay, promise."

Stiles wiped at his eyes and smiled widely. Derek and the others chose this moment to step into the room.

"Oh Devon," Stiles spoke happily. "This is a friend I've told you about: Derek Hale."

Devon's eyes lit up knowingly as he fixed the werewolf with his blue eyes.

"You're Derek," he said with a grin, shaking the older man's hand.

"And you're Devon," Derek replied with a hint of a grin. "You seem like a good kid. Stiles is lucky."

"I'm lucky," Devon contradicted him good-naturedly.

Then his eyes fell on the other two visitors. Stiles noticed.

"This is Quinn and Mona," Stiles told him. "They helped."

"Nice to meet you," Quinn said, extending a hand to shake. "Well Mona... "

He turned his gaze on his mate.

"Let's go back and see your Uncle Michael. I want to move back into the manor, if that's okay."

"Fine with me," she said with a knowing smile. "I think it'll make a lovely house for us lovers."

Stiles still thought she was a hopeless, poetic romantic, but so was Quinn in his ways.

"It was nice meeting both of you," Quinn told them, turning to face them again from the door. "If you ever want to hang, come out to the manor. We won't bite."

He chuckled at his own joke as he and Mona left. Stiles watched them go wondering if this was the beginning of a new friendship. He got the feeling it was.

"Do the doctors think you can check out of here?" Derek asked, breaking Stiles's distraction.

"I should be able to," Devon said. "They wanted to observe me, but I think its been long enough."

He fixed Stiles with a bright expression.

"Let's all go get something to eat then," Derek said. "My treat."

"I'd like that Derek," Devon replied with a friendly smile.

Stiles was glad to see they were already off to a good start.


	15. Chapter 15

**Fifteen**

Derek took them out to a famous New Orleans landmark that they could only ever dream of being able to afford: Commander's Palace.

Stiles supposed that all that inheritence money came in handy, but immediately felt guilty for thinking that. He wouldn't wish what had happened to Derek on his worst enemy.

Their waiter brought them their drinks in the finest crystal cocktail glasses. Stiles had asked for his old faithful: Rum and Coke. He sipped at his drink and had to force himself not to cough on the fine stuff. Now this was rum.

Derek smiled at his discomfort and sipped at his gin on the rocks. Stiles felt a rush of anger, but then cconsidered that he probably did look pretty funny. Even Devon chuckled at the look on his face.

"Alright guys," Stiles griped dramatically. "Let's not laugh at Stiles all afternoon."

"You're so fun though," Devon told him with a wink.

Derek looked a little uncomfortable at this exchange, but shrugged it off with another sip of his gin.

Stiles figured that it didn't get much better than this. He and Devon were playing hookie from classes todayy, but he'd make up some excuse for his professors. He was a pro at feeding people BS. Stiles grinned at the thought. His mind could not tell a lie.

"Thanks for taking us out Derek," he said to his old friend. "We could never afford a place like this."

"Don't mention it Stiles," the older man told him. "Seriously."

The wolf turned his glance to Devon.

"I really want to get to know more about you," he said, his expression not hostile. "Stiles and I go way back, as it seems he's told you."

"Oh yes," Devon replied with an amused smile. "Stiles has told me all about the infamous Derek Hale. Meeting you puts a lot of it into perspective."

"Do I fit Stiles's description of me?" Derek asked curiously.

"Not really," the blond admitted. "There's more to you than what's beneath the surface."

Derek raised an eyebrow, giving Stiles another glance.

"Stiles and I are very accustomed to encountering the supernatural, Devon. Still... to think vampires actually do exist."

Derek looked a little troubled.

"What is it Derek?" Stiles asked at the look.

"Stiles, vampires are bad news. I know Quinn and Mona wouldn't hurt us intentionally, but all the old stories say we're natural enemies to one another. I can't tell you how difficult it was to fight down this impulse I had around them. Maybe disgust... definitely natural revulsion."

Stiles did feel a little uneasy at this new knowledge. Werewolves felt a natural revulsion toward vampires, meaning the two were like ticking time bombs around one another.

He also wondered if things in popular culture about vampires were actually true. Were they actually immortal? Did they really drink blood?

One day he intended to ask Quinn and Mona everything.

He also felt fascination for another reason. If you would've asked a slightly younger Stiles his choice of supernatural creature, he would've chosen to be a vampire hands down. Not that he hadn't considered the other alternative.

There had been many times Stiles had been tempted to ask for the bite. He was tempted to ask Derek that time Gerard had abducted and beat on him. He actually had mentioned the subject to Scott on one occasion, and his best friend had laughed him off. He hadn't taken him seriously.

Stiles still remembered the desire he'd actually felt to show his undying loyalty to his best friend by becoming one of his- a beta.

"Derek can I ask you something?" he spoke, coming out of his thoughts.

"What's that Stiles?"

"If I had ever... you know- asked you for the bite. Would you... "

Derek considered him uneasily for several moments, as though hesitant.

"I might have," the werewolf answered finally. "You're much stronger than I ever gave you credit for. You would have made a powerful werewolf. My mother... "

Derek cut off awkwardly and looked away.

"What about your mother?"

"Stiles," Derek protested quietly. "Don't... "

"I want to know."

Devon was watching their exchange with mild interest.

"Do you?" Derek asked, looking at him raptly now. "What if I told you that I knew who you and Scott were already- that day when you met me at the preserve? That I used to see the two of you play when you were small. My mother used to short cut it through your neighborhood, and I saw you. One time she said... that you had great potential. I asked her what she thought of you. I was curious because we passed you often, playing in your yard. My mother could sense a person's potential as werewolves, and she said Scott could be very powerful one day, but so could you. She called you... dangerous."

Stiles felt slight unease at this new knowledge. Had Derek's mother forseen the Nogitsune ordeal? Had she sensed something evil in him even then?

"Stop that," Derek snapped, noting his expression. "You're not a bad person. I won't have you doubting yourself, you hear me!?"

"Derek," Devon interrupted in a non-hostile, yet firm voice.

"No he's right," Stiles said. "There's things I don't like to talk about because I've changed."

Derek eyed him with a kind of gentleness in his eyes, or was it sadness, or hope? This expression of the alpha's was always the hardest to read into.

"I'm sorry Derek," Devon said quickly.

"No its fine," the wolf insisted. "I know you're looking out for him. I'm actually glad he has you. You seem nice."

Their waiter was heading toward them with a tray holding their plates. The lights flickered suddenly and an explosion was heard. Derek pulled Stiles and Devon under the table and shielded them with his body as another explosion shook the building.

Stiles tried to steady his breathing, feeling like Derek above them made them safe.

He heard something whiz through the air. Derek let out a gasp, and his weight began to bear down on them.

"S-Stiles," the werewolf gasped breathily.

The older man was suddenly pulled off of them. Stiles jumped up in panic at what he realized must be happening. Derek was passed out and supported on the shoulder of a man dressed in full ninja garb- only his narrowed eyes visible.

Stiles readied himself to act, but the ninja tossed a small ball that released a thick screen of smoke between them.

"Derek," Stiles hacked as he fought off the smoke entering his lungs. "Derek!"

"Stiles?" Devon's voice called through the haze. "Stiles stay near me!"

The smoke cleared. People were peeking out from underneath their tables. Waiters were pressed against the walls cowering. The ninja was gone, and so was Derek...

Stiles felt like something had knocked the wind out of his chest and replaced it with a searing, heart-wrenching void. Derek...


	16. Chapter 16

**Sixteen**

"We have to go after him," Stiles insisted, as Devon clung to his arm with a concerned expression.

They'd made sure to flee the scene at Commander's Palace before the police could arrive. Neither of them wanted to answer questions.

They were a few blocks away now. The wail of sirens could be heard nearby.

"How can we?" Devon asked Stiles worriedly.

"Big city and everything," Stiles sighed. "I know, I just... Derek would come after me alright?"

Stiles exhaled. He was flustered. He looked on the verge of a breakdown.

"We need to go back to the dorm. You need to tell Ethel you won't be at work today either."

That gave Stiles an idea.

"Why don't we just grab a cab to the Quarter?" he suggested. "I can tell her in person because just maybe- she can help us."

"Maybe," Devon agreed thoughtfully.

He appeared deep in thought suddenly, folding his arms.

"Stiles, Derek is _just_ a friend, isn't he?"

"Of course he is," Stiles replied quickly, giving his boyfriend a raised eyebrow.

"Right, sorry."

Stiles smiled softly and gave Devon a hug.

"I'm sorry I'm so jumpy," he said gently. "Derek's just a very close friend, and I'm scared whatever happens will be my fault."

Stiles didn't pull away. Devon hugged back, knowing his love needed his support.

"Alright California Dream," he said softly. "We'll go see Madam Voodoo."

oooOoooOooo

The cab dropped them right in front of the emporium with its usual crowd of tourists and locals.

Stiles was so anxious to see if Ethel could help find Derek he told the driver to keep the rest of the forty he gave him.

Devon took Stiles's hand and gave him a supportive squeeze with a gentle smile.

"Love you."

Stiles smiled back, eyes watering a little at how raw his emotions currently were.

"Love you too Dev."

The two of them made their way through the crowd hand in hand.

When they stepped through the emporium's open doors they almost bumped headlong into Ethel. She looked worried.

"Oh honey, there you are. I was worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Stiles asked a little confusedly.

"I knew you'd be coming," she explained. "I had a dream with you in it last night. I saw you running through an alley way with a young man and red-headed young woman."

"Yeah that was last night," Stiles said, quite impressed at her powers of intuition.

Ethel gave Devon a motherly smile.

"You must be Stiles's roommate. Though I see you've become more to each other."

She eyed their joined hands as she said this.

"That isn't all I saw," she said, looking Stiles in the eye as she returned to their former train of conversation. "I saw someone else. He's gone isn't he?"

Ethel grabbed Stiles's hand with a look of motherly concern.

"I wasn't sure it might not be you. My dreams aren't always clear, but I think I know where he is."

Stiles's eyes lit up with hope.

"You do?"

"Follow me," she said, leading them into the emporium.

Stiles hoped with all his heart she knew. If anything happened to Derek because of him...


	17. Chapter 17

**Seventeen**

Ethel had led them to her little private nook in the back of the store, the room with all the boxes.

She seated herself at the table and took up the Tarot deck, shuffling the cards carefully.

Stiles bit his nails to keep from jumping. His nerves were already bad, and the anxiety was making them worse. Devon placed a knowing, reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Ethel placed the cards on the table.

"Sit," she instructed.

Stiles knew it was important they obey. He and Devon quickly had a seat on the floor.

Ethel drew the top card, but didn't look at it.

"I'm not just any ordinary Voodoo Priestess," she told them, gaze somewhat intense.

Stiles didn't know why he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Ethel had never made him feel uneasy before, but maybe it was anxiety about Derek.

Ethel closed her eyes and inhaled. Stiles almost jumped with fright when the card shifted and then rose into the air slowly.

"Don't fear child," Ethel told him, fixing him with another intense glance. "Courage now."

The card began to stretch and change. It was like watching something grow at hyper speed. The card seemed to twist and distort, becoming a red compass and dropping into Ethel's open hand.

"This is what the spirit of the cards has given you," she said, holding the compass out for Stiles to take.

Stiles took it, hardly daring to believe it wasn't a card.

"That will guide you," Ethel told him, expression concerned and slightly fearful. "It was made from the card of the Devil, so beware it. It might prove treacherous."

Stiles inhaled for courage and decided to pocket it. The card of the Devil... should he worry?

"Thank you," he said.

Ethel's expression became tender and motherly.

"Don't think on it child. Off with ya! Time may not be on your side."

oooOoooOooo

_Time may not be on your side..._

Those words continued to gnaw at Stiles, causing his anxiety to increase.

He'd taken the compass out about a block from Ethel's store. It kept spinning and pointing their way, but he didn't feel that it would help much. Derek could be anywhere, and he and Devon could walk for miles.

He'd quickly surmised they needed a car, but his Jeep was parked some distance away at a paid lot. He kept trying to forget Ethel's grim warning about time being against them.

Finally they reached his Jeep and wasted no time in jumping in. Stiles handed Devon the compass and cranked up his baby. He and this Jeep had been through a lot together over the years, but it was still his old reliable.

"Seems to be pointing North," Devon informed him. "You okay?"

"I will be," Stiles managed, not feeling okay at all. "I'm really worried, and Ethel was too."

"I'm not sure we should trust her Stiles. She kinda creeps me out."

Stiles might have argued, but he was also a little unnerved by his new boss's little card trick. That wasn't any Voodoo like he'd ever seen...

oooOoooOooo

The compass said North. Stiles drove them to the Causeway Bridge, and still the arrow pointed North. They'd have to pay a toll to cross Lake Pontchartrain.

Stiles handed the toll worker a five and kept going, not at all worried about the change. Derek might be in terrible danger. Something just told Stiles deep down in his heart to hurry.

They exited the bridge onto Causeway Boulevard in Mandeville.

"It just turned West," Devon said.

Stiles nodded, biting at his bottom lip. He got on the ramp to I-12. He kept hoping to whatever power might exist that it wasn't much farther.


	18. Chapter 18

**Eighteen**

Baton Rouge's traffic was murder. It was pushing the limits of Stiles's ADHD.

He was already so anxious and nervous he could freak. His anxiety had grown with every mile.

First they'd passed Covington, then Ponchatoula, then Hammond...

He really hoped the Devil was leading them rightly, shuddering at the thought. Devon was still holding the compass made from the Tarot.

They'd been sitting in this traffic about twenty minutes. Almost since I-12 had merged onto I-10 back at Denham Springs. Every few minutes they would advance at a snail's pace.

Stiles was about ready to slam his head through the windshield. The traffic began to move again.

"Need me to drive?" Devon asked with a worried expression. "You look like you're about to lose it."

"Nah, I got this."

At least the traffic was still moving. Soon they were accelerating to about thirty miles per hour. Stiles exhaled in relief, feeling his anxiety lessen considerably.

"Northwest," Devon announced.

"What the hell!?" Stiles exclaimed irritably. "How much further!?"

"Beats me," his boyfriend said with a shrug.

They were coming up to a sign that told them the next Exit was Port Allen. Stiles figured Northwest meant he'd better get off.

Soon they were passing by a gas station and a McDonald's. Another sign up ahead announced that the road to the left would take them to the Atchafalaya River preserve.

"Left," Devon exclaimed loudly.

Stiles hung a sharp turn. He'd almost passed the road. A few drivers blared angry horns at him.

"Looks like we're finally close," Stiles remarked.

"Maybe not," Devon said. "What do you know about the Atchafalaya?"

"Isn't it a basin?" Stiles asked curiously.

"A river and a swamp, to be specific. A BIG swamp."

Stiles suddenly didn't feel assured. Would they have to go into the swamp?

The road turned a curb and came to a sudden dead end at the river. The only building nearby was a boat rental, which was of course closed at this time of night.

"They won't mind if we borrow a boat," Stiles said, as he stepped out and shut his door.

"Do we have to?" Devon asked, worry apparent in his tone.

There was no doubt in Stiles's mind they would. It was either go into the swamp or turn back, and he had faced way worse.

"I'm with ya Dev," Stiles assured him gently.

The two of them unmoored the sturdiest looking boat that had an engine.

Stiles pulled the go mechanism and the engine roared to life.

"Have you ever driven a boat?" Devon asked skeptically.

"Honestly? No... "

Devon grabbed the steering handle from him.

"Take the compass, California Boy. I'm the one that knows boats."

Stiles just hoped the boat had enough gas. He'd read enough to know that the Atchafalaya River was miles long.

Devon had to go slow. Luckily the moon was out, so they had enough light to turn bends in the river.

"Its saying slightly right," Stiles said, noticing the arrow shift.

"Damn it," Devon cursed. "It'll be hard to see without a light in those cypress trees... "

Stiles pulled out his cell phone and ran the flashlight app.

"There's always that," Devon said, turning the boat into a narrow offshoot of the river.

The boat went forward very slowly and Stiles had to use the light to lookout for cypress trees.

"Do you see that?" Devon whispered.

Stiles looked in the direction Devon was glancing and made out the familiar glow of electric light.

"Must be windows in the distance," Stiles guessed. "Something tells me this is the place."

"Put out the light," Devon muttered in a low voice, killing the motor. "We don't want them knowing we're here."

The Louisiana boy grabbed a paddle from the boat's floor and made slow, deliberate strokes in the water.

Soon they hit land.

"Look for rope," Devon whispered.

Stiles felt around the bottom of the boat, catching the telltale feel of fabric against his fingertips.

"Found it," he breathed in a low hiss.

Devon grabbed it from him and stepped out, using it to moor the boat to a nearby limb.

Stiles carefully stepped out, feeling the boat bobble a little in the water beneath him. The lights were closer now.

He felt his anxiety increase again. They were in the middle of nowhere in a swamp. There would be no help if something happened. Fortunately, he was a Kitsune, and that was one huge advantage going for them.

They walked toward the lights. Every so often the ground sunk beneath them. Hopefully they wouldn't find quicksand.

Finally they came to a rather large cabin. Surprising for way out here.

Stiles gestured for Devon to stay behind him, knowing now how Scott and the others must have felt having him along when he was just a normal human.

He made his way to the front door. There were lights on inside. Possibly that Ninja or someone else was waiting for them.

He gripped the door handle and slowly opened it. The welcome sound of snoring met his ears.

He gestured for Devon to follow and carefully pushed open the door the rest of the way. Inside was a security guard with a gun tucked in his belt, sitting on a couch asleep. The Ninja and Derek were nowhere to be seen.

Stiles gestured for Devon to remain still and stealthily approached the sleeping guard. He eased the gun out of the man's belt and then brought the handle down hard against his head. The man stopped snoring and hit the floor with a thump.

"He must be hired help," Stiles said. "I don't hear anyone else."

He tried to listen with his Kitsune hearing, and thought he heard something beating beneath them. Was that possible?

He got down on his knees and placed his ear against the floor.

"Definitely," he said, getting back on his feet. "Help me find stairs Dev."


End file.
